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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345944" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Song Bewailing The Time Of Christmas, So Much Decayed In England</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Christmas is my name, for have I gone, have I gone, have I gone,<br>Have I gone without regard;<br>Whereas great men by flocks they be flown to Londonward<br>Where in pomp and pleasure do waste<br>That which Christmas had wont to feast,<br>Welladay!<br>Houses where music was wonted to ring,<br>Nothing but bats and owls now do sing.<br>Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Christmas bread and beef is turned into stones, into stones, into stones,<br>Into stones and silken rags.<br>And Lady Money, it doth sleep, it doth sleep, it doth sleep,<br>It doth sleep in misers' bags.<br>Where many gallants once abound,<br>Nought but a dog and shepherd is found,<br>Welladay!<br>Places where Christmas revels did keep<br>Are now become habitations for sheep.<br>Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pan, the shepherds' god, doth deface, doth deface, doth deface,<br>Doth deface Lady Ceres' crown;<br>And tillages doth decay, doth decay, doth decay,<br>Doth decay in every town;<br>Landlords their rents so highly enhance<br>That Piers the ploughman barefoot doth dance,<br>Welladay!<br>Farmers that Christmas would entertain<br>Hath scarcely withal themselves to maintain.<br>Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Go to the Protestant, he'll protest, he'll protest, he'll protest,<br>He will protest and boldly boast;<br>And to the Puritan, he is so hot, he is so hot, he is so hot,<br>He is so hot he will burn the roast.<br>The Catholic good deeds will not scorn,<br>Nor will he see poor Christmas forlorn,<br>Welladay!<br>Since holiness no good deeds will do,<br>Protestants had best turn Papists too.<br>Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pride and luxury doth devour, doth devour, doth devour,<br>Doth devour housekeeping quite,<br>And beggary doth beget, doth beget, doth beget,<br>Doth beget in many a knight.<br>Madam, forsooth, in coach must she reel<br>Although she wear her hose out at heel,<br>Welladay!<br>And on her back were that for her weed<br>That would both me and many other feed,<br>Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Briefly for to end, here I find, here I find, here I find,<br>Here I find such great vacation<br>That some great houses do seem to have, seem to have, seem to have,<br>For to have some great purgation:<br>With purging pills such effects they have showed<br>That out of doors their owners they have spewed.<br>Welladay!<br>And when Christmas goes by and calls,<br>Nothing but solitude and naked walls.<br>Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Philomel's cottages are turned into gold, into gold,<br>Into gold for harboring Joan;<br>And great men's houses up for to hold, up for to hold,<br>Up for to hold, make great men moan;<br>But in the city they say they do live<br>Where gold by handfuls away they do give,<br>Welladay!<br>And, therefore, thither I purpose to pass,<br>Hoping at London to find the Golden Ass.<br>I'll away, I'll away, I'll away, I'll no longer stay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anonymous+Olde+English">Anonymous Olde English</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345944" data-title="A Song Bewailing The Time Of Christmas, So Much Decayed In England de Anonymous Olde English" data-description="Christmas is my name, for have I gone, have I gone, have I gone,
Have I gone without regard;
Whereas great men by flocks they be flown to Londonward
Where in pomp and pleasure do waste
That which Christmas had wont to feast,
Welladay!
Houses where..."></div>
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