Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/281

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A NEW ENGLISH BALLAD.

263

For the school, the rail, the cheap white loaf
Are better, fifty-fold,
Than the savage times, the cruel times,
The sad, dark times of old.

Oh! we are not what we might be!
But the Sunday School is here,
And the laws will shield the humblest,
And no king may interfere.
And the Christian child is wiser far
Than all the barons bold
Of the savage times, the cruel times,
The sad, dark times of old.

A New English Ballad.

It was merry once in England,
Many years ago,
Before all this ill-blood was bred
Betwixt the high and low;
Was room enough to live and die
For every sort of men:
It was merry of old in England—
Shall it never be so again?

There were none too many to plough then,
There were none too many to sow;
And every man that would work
Had work enough to do;
Was beef enough and beer enough
For every person then:
It was merry of old in England—
Shall it never be so again?

English then were cheerful men,
As cheerful might they be,
And took their fill with right goodwill,
Of love and jollity;
Wives were thought the better of
For bearing children then:
'Till some of us are dead, I think;
It will not be so again.

Our fathers then paid their own debts,
And none beside their own,
Nor ever left the children's sweat
In pledge for any loan;