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THE WHINING OF CALES.
Hung up their flags of truce,
Yielding the town; We march'd in presently,
Decking the walls on high With our English colours,
Which purchas'd renown. Dub a-dub, &c.
Ent'ring the houses tnen,
And of the richest men, For gold and treasure
We searched each day; In some places we did find
Pye baking in the oven, Meat at the fire roasting,
And men run away. Dub a-dub, &c.
Full of rich merchandise,
Every shop we did see, Damask and sattins
And velvet full fair ; Which soldiers measure out
By the length of their swords; Of all commodities,
Each one hath share. Dub a-dub, &c.
Thus Cales was taken, And our brave general |
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