To see a strange outlandish fowl,
A quaint baboon, an ape, an owl,
A dancing bear, a giant’s bone,
A foolish engine move alone,
A morris dance, a puppet-play,
Mad Tom to sing a roundelay,
A woman dancing on a rope,
Bull-baiting also at the Hope,
A rimer’s jests, a jugler’s cheats,
A tumbler showing cunning feats,
Or players acting on the stage,
There goes the bounty of our age:
But unto any pious motion
There’s little coin and less devotion.
From: Bullen, A. H. (ed.), Poems, Chiefly Lyrical, from Romances and Prose-Tracts of the Elizabethan Age: with Chosen Poems of Nicholas Breton, 1890, John C. Nimmo: London, p. 83.
(https://archive.org/details/poemschieflylyri00bulliala)
Date: 1621
By: Henry Farley (fl. 1616-1621)
Alternative Title: The Bounty of Our Age