O Thou that sleep'st like Pigg in Straw, Thou Lady dear, arise; Open (to keep the Sun in awe) Those pretty pinking eyes: And having stretcht each Leg and Arme, Put on your cleane White Smock, And then I pray, to keep you warme, A Petticote on Dock. Arise, arise! Why should you sleep, When you have slept enough? Long since, French Boyes cry'd Chimney-Sweep, And Damsels Kitching-stuffe.
The Shops were open'd long before, And youngest Prentice goes To lay at's Mrs. Chamber-doore His Masters shining shooes. Arise, arise; your Breakfast stayes, Good Water-grewell warme, Or sugar-sops, which Galen says With Mace, will do no harme. Arise, Arise; when you are up, You'l find more to your cost, For Morning-draught in Caudle-cup, Good Nutbrown-Ale, and Tost. from News from Plimouth ( 1635)
Perhaps Davenant borrowed his measure from Bishop Corbet, whose 'proper new ballad intituled The Faeryes Farewell' appeared a few years earlier. How pleasant it would be to go on and talk about the good Bishop. . . .