Where are your old soldiers with slashes and scars,
That never used drinking in no time of wars.

Nor shedding of blood in mad drunken jars
And is not Old England grown new
Where are your old swords, your bills and your bows,

Your bucklers and targets that never feared blows,
They are turned to stilettos and other fare shows.

And is not Old England grown new.
We have new fashioned beards and new fashioned locks,

And new fashioned hats for our new painted blocks.
And more new diseases besides the French Pox,

And is not Old England grown new.
New trickings new goings new measures new paces,

New fashions new riches new power in new places.

Puts old sneers and old scorn on a set of new faces

And is not old England grown new?
