A Song on the Times

When I began the world first,
It was not as 'tis now;
For all was plain and simple then,
And friends were kind and true:
Oh, the times, the weary, weary times!
The times that I now see;
I think the world 's all gone wrong,
From what it used to be.

There were not then high capering heads,
Prick'd up from ear to ear;
And cloaks and caps were rarities,
For gentle folks to wear:
Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.

There 's not an upstart mushroom now,
But what sets up for taste;
And not a lass in all the land,
But must be lady-dress'd:
Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.

Our young men married then for love,
So did our lasses too;
And children loved their parents dear,
As children ought to do:
Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.

For oh, the times are sadly changed--
A heavy change indeed!
For truth and friendship are no more,
And honesty is fled:
Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.

There 's nothing now prevails but pride,
Among both high and low;
And strife, and greed, and vanity,
Is all that 's minded now:
Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.

When I look through the world wide,
How times and fashions go,
It draws the tears from both my eyes,
And fills my heart with woe:
Oh, the times, the weary, weary times!
The times that I now see;
I wish the world were at an end,
For it will not mend for me!