The Cramp
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Lenten stuff is come to the town
The cleansing week comes quickly
You know well enough you must kneel down
Come on, take ashes trickly
That neither are good flesh nor fish
But dip with Judas in the dish
And keep a root not worth a rish, a rish
Herring, herring, white and red
Seek out such as be rotten
Though some be hanged, and some be dead
And some be yet forgotten
The time will come the discipline rod
Though idols dum make many odd
Will firk out some that fear not God, not God
Wallfleet oysters, salt and green
Are trim meats to be eaten
Trusty subjects to their queen
Need never to be beaten
And a salad, sure exceeds
And must procure digestion needs
That's picked so pure it has no weeds, no weeds
New place, new, at every tide
This is the common craving
In every place let them be tried
That are of ill behaving
For such as of beyond say smell
The come too far to savour well
As I hear the common people tell, they tell
And as this lent time many seeks
For herbs and salads dainty
I never in my life saw leeks
In every place so plenty
For every man likes what he lust
And as he likes he puts his trust
So few or none be like be just, be just
Of nettles likewise there be store
In salads at this season
For men be nettled more and more
With paltry passing reason
And sum upon a nettle piss
That see not where the nettle is
And many a-one finds fault at this, at this
Then Jack-a-lent comes jostling in
With the headpiece of a herring
And says, "repent you of your sin
For shame, sirs, lay your swearing."
And to Palm Sunday does he ride
With sprouts and herrings by his side
And makes an end of Lenten tide, the tide