Alas poore Scholler, whither wilt thou goe: OR Strange altrations which at this time be; There's many did thinke they never should see.
To the tune of, Halloo my Fancy, &c.
IN a melancholly studdy
None but my selfe,
Me thought my muse grew muddy,
After seaven yeares reading
And costly breeding,
I felt, but could finde no pelfe:
Into learned raggs
I'ue rent my Plush and Sattin,
And now am fit to begg
in Hebrew, Greeke and Lattin,
Iu [...]d of Aristotle,
would I had got a Patten:
Alasse poore Scholler whither wilt thou go?
Cambridge now I must leave thee
And follow Fate,
Colledge hopes doe deceiue me,
I oft expected
To haue beene elected,
But desert is reprobate:
Masters of Colledges
have no common graces,
And they that have Fellowships
have but common places,
And those that Schollers are,
they must haue hansome faces:
Alas poore Scholler whither wilt thou goe?
I haue bow'd, I haue bended,
And all in hope,
Due day to be befrended,
I haue Preach'd, I haue Printed
What ere I hinted,
To please our English Pope;
I worshipt towards the East,
but the Sunne doth now forsake me,
I finde that I am falling,
the Northerne winds doe shake me,
Would I had beene upright,
for bowing now will breake me:
Alas poore Scholler, whither wilt thou goe?
At great preferment I aymed
Witnesse my silke,
But now my hopes are maimed,
I looked lately,
To liue most stately,
And haue a Dairy of Bell-ropes milke:
But now alasse,
my selfe I must not flatter,
Bygamy of Steeples
is a laughing matter,
Each man must have but one,
and Curates will grow fatter.
Alas poore Scholler, whither wilt thou goe?
The second part,
to the same Tune.
INto some Country Uillage
Now I must goe,
Where neither Tith nor Tillage▪
The greedy Patron
And parched Matron,
Sweare to the Church they owe:
Yet if I can preach and pray too on a sudden,
And confute the Pope
at adventure without studdying,
Then ten pounds a yeare
besides a sunday pudding.
Alas poore Scholler whither wilt thou goe?
All the Arts I haue Skill in,
Divine and Humane,
Yet all's not worth a shilling,
When the women heare me,
They doe but ieare me,
And say I am profane:
Once I remember,
I Preached with a Weaver,
I quoated Austine,
He quoated Dodd and Cliver,
I nothing got,
he got a Cloke and Bever.
Alas poore Scholler whither wilt thou goe?
Shipps, Shipps, Shipps I discover,
Crossing the Maine,
Shall I in and goe over
Turne Iew or Atheist,
Turke or Papist,
To Geneva or Amsterdam:
Bishoppricks are voyde
in Scotland, shall I thither,
Or follow Windebanke
and Finch to see if either
Doe want a Preist to shrive them,
O no tis blustring weather.
Alas poore Scholler whither wilt thou goe?
Ho, ho, ho, I have hit it,
Peace goodman foole,
Thou hast a frame will fit it,
Draw thy Indenture,
Be bound at adventure,
An Apprentice to a Free-schoole;
There thou may'st command
By William Lillies Charter,
There thou mayst whipp, stripp
and hang and draw and quarter,
And commit to the red Rod,
both Will. and Tom. and Arthur.
I, I, 'tis thither, thither will I goe.
FINIS.