The text below is copied from a broadside at the English Broadside Ballad Archive at the University of California at Santa Barbara—but I have modernized the spelling (and to some extent, the punctuation) and added verse numbers. It is from the Pepys collection.

Ewan MacColl recorded this song on “Broadside Ballads, Vol. 1 (London: 1600-1700)” (1962); you can hear it at YouTube. He omitted verses 5, 7-8, 10, 13-15, and 17, as I have indicated by enclosing those verses in brackets.


A MERRY PROGRESS TO LONDON
TO SEE FASHIONS, BY A YOUNG COUNTRY GALLANT THAT HAD MORE MONEY THAN WIT.
To the tune of Riding to Rumford.

1. My mother to heaven is gone; ten pounds she gave me.
Now never a penny's left, as God shall have me.
Yet still my heart is free; I live at liberty,
And keep good company, taking tobacco.

2. Old woman, fare thee well; thanks for thy kindness.
My plough and cart are gone, with my good geldings.
I have no foot of land, nor one groat at command.
Which way then shall I stand, to a pipe of tobacco?

3. My purse will chink no more; my pocket's empty.
I am turned out of door; farewell, good company.
Friendship now slender grows; poverty parteth those
That for drink sell their clothes, and for tobacco.

4. My cloak is laid to pawn with my old dagger.
My state is quite o'erthrown; how shall I swagger?
Yet I'll do what I can, and be no coward then,
But prove myself a man, at a pipe of tobacco.

[5. In an old satin suit, without a penny,
We gallants may brag it brave as well as any.
What though my credit's lost, yet can I find a post
Still to score with mine host, for a pipe of tobacco.]

6. Upon a proper nag daintily pacéd.
To London first I came, all with gold lacéd.
Then with my punk each day, rode I to see a play.
There went my gold away, taking tobacco.

[7. Twenty good sheep I brought, left by my mother:
Ewes and lambs, cows and calves, one with the other,
With which I paid a shot, for a pipe and a pot.
All these were bravely got, and spent in tobacco.]

[8. No companion was I then for clownish carters.
I wore embroidered hose, with golden garters.
My silver-hatchéd sword, made me swear like a lord.
Come, rogue; at every word, fill me tobacco.]

THE SECOND PART OF THE MERRY PROGRESS TO LONDON.
TO THE SAME TUNE.

9. Then tracing the gallant streets of London city,
A damsel me kindly greets, courteous and witty.
She like a singing lark, led me into the dark,
Where I soon paid a mark, for a pipe of tobacco.

[10. To Smithfield then gallantly took I my journey,
Where I left soon behind part of my money.
There I found out a punk, with whom I was so drunk,
That my purse bottom shrunk, away with tobacco.]

11. Pickthatch and Clerkenwell made me so merry,
Until my purse at last, began to grow weary.
Yellow-starched bonny Kate, with her fine nimble pate,
Cozened me of my plate, with a pipe of tobacco.

12. Then for good fellowship, to Garden-alley,
I hied me to search for daughters of folly.
There I found roaring boys, with their fair female joys,
And the devil-making toys, to take tobacco.

[13. After, to Shoreditch then, stood I beholding,
Where I found sinners store, of the devil's molding.
I speak for no slander, the punk and her pander,
Like a goose and her gander, took whiffs of tobacco.]

[14. To St Katharine's passed I next, not without trouble,
Where my purse lashed out, drinking beer double.
A tester for each toast, paid I there to my host,
And the sauce to my cost, was a crown for tobacco.]

[15. To Ratcliff and Wapping then, went I for shipping,
Whereat a lass lovingly gave me a whipping.
There was a bonny wench, struck a nail would not clench,
That taught me finely French, taking tobacco.]

16. Then straight to Westminster made I adventure,
To find good fellows who willed me to enter,
Where I felt such a smoke, as might the devil choke.
There went away my cloak, with the smoke of tobacco.

[17. Backward to Barbican quickly I hasted.
There met I honest John, my money being wasted.
A pipe and a pot (quoth he) my friend I'll bestow on thee;
Then let’s to no-body, there's the best tobacco.]

18. Now farewell, good fellowship; London, I leave thee.
Never more whilst I live, shall they deceive me.
Every street, every lane, holds me in disdain.
London hath wrought my bane, so farewell, tobacco.

Finis.
Imprinted at London for J. White.