Bruce, I went to your Web page had a hard time finding the "Lubberland" song you referred to. I hope you don't mind that I'm taking the liberty of posting it here. I think it's something people ought to see.
-Joe Offer-

An Invitation to Lubberland
with
An Account of the great Plenty of that Fruitful Country

There is all sorts of Fowl and Fish,
With Wine and store of Brandy;
Ye have there what your hearts can wish:
The Hills are Sugar-Candy
To the tune of: Billy and Molly [lost] or, The Journey-man Shoemaker [Daniel Cooper].
This may be Printed: R[ichard]. P[ocock]. [1685-1688]

There is a ship, we understand,
Now riding in the river;
'Tis newly come from Lubberland, [Rumbelo?]
The like I think was never;
You that a lazy life do love.
I'd have you now go over,
They say the land is not above
Two thousand leagues from Dover.

The captain and the master too,
Do's give us this relation,
And so do's all the whole ship's crew,
Concerning this strange nation:
"The streets are pav'd eith pudding-pies,
nay, powder'd-beef and bacon,
They say they scorn to tell you lies:'
Who thinks it is mistaken.

The king of Knaves, and Queen of Sluts
Reign there in peace and quiet;
You need not fear to starve your guts,
There is such store of dyet:
There may you live free from all care,
Like hogs set up a fat'ning;
The garments which the people wear
Is silver, silk and satin.

The lofty buildings of this place
For many years have lasted;
With nutmegs, pepper, cloves, and mace,
The walls are there rough-casted,
In curious hasty-pudding boil'd,
And most ingenious carving;
Likewise they are with pancakes ty'd,
Sure, here's no fear of starving.

The captain says, "In every town,
Hot roasted pigs will meet ye,
They in the streets run up and down,
Still crying out, Come eat me"
Likewise, he says, "At every feast,
The very fowls and fishes,
Nay from the biggest to the least,
Comes tumbling to the dishes.

"The rivers run with claret fine,
The brooks with rich canary,
The ponds with other sorts of wine,
To make your hearts full merry:
Nay, more than this, you may behold,
The fountains flow with brandy,
The rocks are like refined gold,
The hills are sugar candy.

"Rose-water is the rain they have,
Which comes in pleasant showers,
All places are adorned brave,
With sweet and fragrant flowers.
Hot custards grows on ev'ry tree,
Each ditch affords rich jellies;
Now if you will be ruled by me,
Go ther and fill your bellies.

"There's nothing there but holy-days
With music out of measure;
Who can forbear to speak the praise
Of such a land of pleasure?
There may you lead a lazy life
Free from all kind of labours:
And he that is without a wife,
May borrow of his neighbour.

"There is no law nor lawyer's fees
All men are free from fury,
For ev'ry one do's what he please,
Without a judge or jury:
The summer-time is warm they say,
The winter's ne'er the colder,
They have no landlords' rent to pay
Each man is a free-holder."

You that are free to cross the seas
Make no more disputation:
In Lubber-land you'll live at ease,
With pleasant recreation:
The Captain waits but for a gale
Of prosperous wind and weather,
And then they soon will hoist up sail,
Make haste saway together.


Printed for J. Deacon, at the Angel in Gilt-spur-street [1685-1701]
Play: DANLCPR

Here we have direct imitation from the middle-English "The Land of Cokaygne".

Fur in see bi west Spaynge [Spain
Is a lond ihote Cokaygne [called
Ther nis lond under hevenriche
Of wel, of godnis, hit iliche [like it
Thogh Paradis be miri and bright
Cokaygne is of fairir sight.
..
...
The gees irostid on the spitte [geese roasted
Fless to the abbai, God hit wot [fly
And gredith, "Gees, al hote, al hot!" [cry out
..
That ye mote that lond ise [might .. see
And nevermore turne aye,
Prey we God so mote hit be [might it
Ame, pur seint charite.

This is obviously the original from which "The Big Rock Candy Mountain" draws. Similar is "Oleanna".