Old Song

Accursed poison lies hid beneath sweet honey.

Accursed poison lies hid beneath sweet honey.

Old soldiers never die;
They fade away!

Old soldiers never die;
They fade away!

Old Rose is dead, that good old man,
We ne'er shall see him more;
He used to read more

Old Rose is dead, that good old man,
We ne'er shall see him more;
He used to wear an old blue coat
All buttoned down before.

The poor man will praise it so hath he good cause,
That all the year eats neither partridge not read more

The poor man will praise it so hath he good cause,
That all the year eats neither partridge not quail,
But sets up his rest and makes up his feast,
With a crust of brown bread and a pot of good ale.

I'd just as soon a beggar as king,
And the reason I'll tell you for why;
A read more

I'd just as soon a beggar as king,
And the reason I'll tell you for why;
A king cannot swagger, not drink like a beggar,
Nor be half so happy as I.
. . . .
Let the back and side go bare.