Though Wenthworth’s beheaded,
Should any Repyne?
Ther’s others may come
To the Block besids he.
Keepe thy head on thy Shoulders,
I will keepe mine;
For what is all this to thee or to me?
Then merily and cherrily
Lets drinke off our Beere,
Let who as will run for it,
We will stay heere.

What meanes our brave Gallants
So fast for to flye:
Because they are afraid
That some danger might be,
They car’d not for seeing
The Deputy dy,
But what is all this to thee or to me:
Then merrily &c.

Since that Finch, and Windebancke
First crost the Seas,
To shun some great danger
Its thought they fore-see;
Ther’s many hath catched
The Running Disease,
But what is all this to thee or to mee,
Then merrily &c.

Although some by running,
To scape had the hap,
Which formerly feared
They punisht should be,
Yet others as cunning,
Were catcht in the trap,
But what is all this to thee or to mee,
Then merrily &c.

A man to doe evill
And have too much Grace,
He thinkes it’s a wonder
Most strange for to see,
So little in person,
Yet great by his place:
But what is all this to thee or to mee,
Then merrily and cherrily
Lets drinke off our wine.
Keepe thy head on thy shoulders,
I will keepe mine.

What strength hath an infant
To doe any harme
So long as the keeper
Doth it ever see?
It’s fit that a Suckling
Were led by the arme
But what is all this to thee or to mee,
Then merrily and cherrily
Lets drinke off our wine.
Keepe thy head on thy shoulders,
I will keepe mine.

Though Jermin and others
Were loath to rehearse,
What they thought in England,
Here acted should be,
Let Davenant write downe
Their travells in verse,
But what is all this to thee or to me,
Then merrily and cherrily
Lets drinke up our beere,
Let who as will run for it,
We will stay heere.

Since no Canterbury,
Nor old womans tale,
Or dissimulation
Will credited be,
The Popish Supporters
Begins for to faile,
But what is all this to thee or to mee,
Then merrily and cherrily
Lets drinke off our wine,
Keepe thy head on thy shoulders
I will keepe mine.

Though some with much patience
Have suffered long,
Who after much tryall
Are lately set free:
And others be punish’t
Which did them such wrong,
But what is all this to thee or to me,
Then merrily, &c.

Suppose that the Masse-Priests
And Jesuits all,
Which troubled our Nation
Should banished be;
Wee’l never be danted
At Babylons fall,
For what is all this to thee or to me,
Then merily, &c.

Let never be sorry
For that which is past,
That each man in’s calling
Most Jocond may be
Still hoping long look’t for
Will come at the last,
And times at more certaine,
We shortly shall see,
Then merrily, &c.

If that all false Traytors,
Were banisht our Land,
And that from all Popery
It once might be free,
Then England and Scotland
Might joyne hand in hand,
Then times will prove better to thee (to me)
So merrily and cherily
Wee’l drinke wine and beere,
Let who as will run for it,
We will stay heere.