Money is my master yet once it was a servant unto mee, but now for want of money I am in misery, yet I doe hope to find some remedy. To the tune of, Better late thrive then never.

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Title
Money is my master yet once it was a servant unto mee, but now for want of money I am in misery, yet I doe hope to find some remedy. To the tune of, Better late thrive then never.
Publication
Printed at London :: for Francis Coules,
[1635?]
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Subject terms
Ballads, English -- 17th century.
Cite this Item
"Money is my master yet once it was a servant unto mee, but now for want of money I am in misery, yet I doe hope to find some remedy. To the tune of, Better late thrive then never." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A07614.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed April 30, 2024.

Pages

Page [unnumbered]

The second part,

To the same tune.

[illustration]

LIkewise there are ome to money are slaves, and doe estéem it as their God, Then more that they have the more stil they crave but those are most impudent bad: For money was made for to passe to and fro, As for them that hard it 'twill turne to their woe, But for my owne part I did never doe so. For money is now grown my master my master, 'Tis money is now growne my master.
This money is growne such a conquerer, as Alexander was never greater, He gaind all his credit and honour by warre But money now wins it more better: There are many brave sparkes march in silver & gold, That the face of a foe they did scarce e're behold, It is their great maintenance that makes them bold And these are right masters of mony of mony, O these are, &c.
This fine Master Money is growne such a man, that many would faine enter in it, But ner'e since those witches from Lācaster came, could I have the fortune to gaine it: 'Twill one day be better but certaine ne're worse, If ere I get Money againe in my purse, Ile lay a gray groat Ile take a better course, And seeke to be a master of money of money, I faine would, &c.
This lack of this Money doth trouble my mind, that I am full sorely tormented, I have much a doe a kind Hostis to find, that will with me now be contented: Quoth she give me Money for I ill not score, She saies she hath chalke enough behind the dore, But I must intreat her to set up some more, Till I can be, &c.
Now he that hath Money though't be but a boy, he shall be made welcome most friendly, The love of brave Gallants be soone may enjoy, and he shall be used most kindly: Theres no age nor wit no strength can prevaile, 'Tis Money may do't for it is a sure baile, and he that hath it can seldome times faile, This money, &c.
Now thus to conclude and so end my ditty, you that have money make good use on't, For friendship is cold in Country Towne & Citty if once you be driven to want, Therefore now bee warned, for here you may sée The griefes & the sorrowes that now possesse me, And this was all long of my bad husbandrie. 'Tis Money is many mens master their master, 'Tis money is now growne my master.
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