Merry drollery, or A Collection of [brace] jovial poems, merry songs, witty drolleries intermix'd with pleasant catches. The first part / collected by W.N., C.B., R.S., J.G., lovers of wit.

The Fire on London Bridge, &c.

SOme Christian people all give ear, Unto the grief of us, Caus'd by the death of three children dear, The which it hapned thus.

And eke there befell an accident, By fault of a Carpenters Son, Who to Saw chips his sharp Axe lent, Woe worth the time may Lon.—

May London say, Woe worth the Carpenter, And all such Block-head fools, Would he were hang'd up like a Serpent here, For jesting with edg-tools.

For into the chips there fell a spark, Which put out in such flames, That it was known into Southwark, Which lives beyond the Thames.

For Loe the Bridge was wondrous high With water underneath, O'er which as many fishes fly, As birds therein doth breath.

And yet the fire consum'd the Bridg, Not far from place of landing, And though the building was full big, It fell down not with standing.

And eke into the water fell, So many Pewter dishes, That a man might have taken up very well, Both boyld and roasted Fishes.

And thus the Bridge of London Town, For building that was sumptuous, Was All by fire Half burnt down, For being too contumptuous.

And thus you have all, but half my Song, Pray list to what comes after; For now I have cool'd you with the Fire, I'll warm you with the Water.

I'll tell you what the Rivers name is, Where these children did slide-a, It was fair Londons swiftest Thames, That keeps both time and Tide-a.

All on the tenth of January, To the wonder of much people, 'Twas frozen o'er, that well 'twould bear Almost a Country Steeple.

Three children sliding thereabouts Upon a place too thin, That so at last it did fall out, That they did all fall in.

A great Lord there was that laid with the King, And with the King great wager makes: But when he saw he could not win, He sight, and would have drawn stakes.

He said it would bear a man for to slide, And laid a hundred pound; The King said it would break, and so it did, For three children there ware drown'd.

Of which ones head was from his Should— Ers stricken, whose name was John, Who then cry'd out as loud as he could, O Lon-a, Lon-a, London.

Oh! tut-tut turn from thy sinful race, Thus did his speech decay: I wonder that in such a case, He had no more to say.

And thus being drown'd, alack, alack, The water ran down their throats, And stopt their breaths three hours by the Clock Before they could get any Boats.

Ye Parents all that children have, And ye that have none yet; Preserve your children from the grave, And teach them at home to sit.

For had these at a Sermon been, Or else upon dry ground, Why then I would never have been seen, If that they had been drown'd.

Even as a Huntsman ties his dogs, For fear they should go from him, So tye your children with severities clogs, Untye-'um and you'l undo 'um.

God bless our Noble Parliament, And rid them from all fears, God bless all th' Commons of this Land, And God bless some o'th' Peers.