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?