Shrowsbury for me:
BEING,
A Song in praise of that Famous Town,
VVhich hath throughout all England gain'd renown,
In Praise thereof, let every one agree,
And say with one accord, Shrowsbury for me.
To a delightful New Tune: or, Shrowsbury for me.
COme listen you Gallants
of Shrowsbury fair Town,
For that is the place,
that hath gained renown:
To set forth its praises,
we all will agree:
Then every man to his mind,
Shrowsbury for me.
The merry Town of Shrowsbury,
God bless it still,
For it stands most gallantly
upon a high Hill:
It standeth most bravely,
for all men to see,
Then every man to his mind,
Shrowsbury for me.
There's six Parish Churches
all in that fair Town,
And six gallant Ministers,
in their black Gowns:
There's twice a week Market,
for all men to see,
And every man to his mind,
Shrowsbury for me.
The second Part, to the same Tune.
O The brave bells of Shrowsbury,
merrily doth ring,
And the gallant young-men & Maid,
sweetly they sing:
There runs a fair silver,
for all men to see,
And every man to his mind,
Shrowsbury for me.
O the Pinacle of Shrowsbury,
shews it self still,
For it's mounted gallantly
on a high Hill:
It standeth most bravely
in view for to see,
Then every man to his mind,
Shrowsbury for me.
The Trades-men of Shrowsbury
drive a fine Trade,
Their wives go most gallant,
and bravely aray'd,
And like loving couples
they always agree,
Then every man to his mind,
Shrowsbury for me.
The Sea-men went to Maid-stone,
the Iayl for to see,
And from thence to London,
that noble City:
Then home they returned,
by one, two, and three,
And every man to his mind,
Shrowsbury for me.
The young-men of Shrowsbury,
are jovial Blades,
When they are in company,
with pretty Maids.
They court them compleatly,
with complements free,
Then every man to his mind,
Shrowsbury for me.
There's Fishing and Fowling
at Shrowsbury Town,
There's shooting and bowling,
both up hill and down:
With brave recreations
for every degree,
Then every man to his mind,
Shrowsbury for me,
There is no man in Shrowsbury
needs for to want,
For all things are plenty,
and nothing is scant:
What e're you can wish for,
for all men is free,
Then every man to his mind.
Shrowsbury for me.
Then who would not gladly,
live in this brave Town,
Which flourishes gallantly,
with high Renown:
The like of it is not
in England to see,
Then every man to his mind,
Shrowsbury for me.
Then brave Lads of Shrowsbury,
let us be merry,
Carrouse it most freely,
in white-wine and Sherry:
Cast up your Caps bravely,
for all men to see,
And still cry with one accord,
Shrowsbury for me.
Printed for J. Wright, J. Clarke, W. Thackeray, and T. Passenger.