II.

Chicky, cockow, my lily cock;

See, fee, fic a downy;
Gallop a trot, trot trot,
And hey for Dublin towny.
This pig went to the market;
Squeek moufe, mouse, moufy;
Shoe, fhoe, fhoe the wild colt,
And hear thy own dol doufy.

III.

Where was a jewel and petty,
Where was a fugar and spicy;
Hufh a baba in a cradle,

And we'll go abroad in a tricy.

Did a papa torment it?

Did e vex his own baby? did-e? :

Hofh a baba in a bofie;

Take ous own fucky: did-e??

IV.

Good morrow, a pudding is broke;

Slavers a thread o' cryftal, ⠀

Now the sweet poffet comes up;

Who faid my child was pifs'd all?

Come water my chickens, come clock,

Leave off, or he'll crawl you, he'll crawl you; Come, gie me your hand, and I'll beat him; Wha was it vexed my baby?

V.

Where was a laugh and a craw;
Where was, was, was a gigling honey?
Goody, good child fhall be fed,

But naughty child fhall get nony.
Get ye gone raw head and bloody bones,
Here is a child that won't fear ye.

Come, piffy, piffy, my jewel,

And ik, ik ay, my deary.

G

OOD people, draw near,
A ftory ye's hear,

A ftory both pleafant and true;
Which happened of late,.
And's not out of date;
I am going to tell it to you.

It was an old cobler,

II.

Who foal'd fhoes at Dubler,

And lov'd to drink the juice of good barley;

And then with his wife,

As dear as his life,

When drunk, he lov'd for to parley.

This cobler, they fay,

Being drunk on a day,

III.

His wife fhe did murmur and chat;

This cobler they fay,

Did thrash her that day,

And cry'd, What a pox

He had a magpye
That was very fly,

ye

wad be at!

IV.

And used for to murmur and chat ;

Who foon got the tone,

Before it was long,

Of, What a por wad ye be at?

And this magpye,

Who was fo very fly,

V..

He into a meeting-house gat

And as the old parfon.

Was canting his leffon,

Cry'd, What a pox wad ye beat?

The parfon furpris'd,

Did lift up his eyes:

VI.

Now help us, pray, Father, in need:

For Satan, I fear,

Does vifit us here;

So help us, pray, Father, with fpeed:

The parfon again

Vil.

Began to explain

To thofe around him that fat;

But Maggie indeed

Flew over his head,

And cry'd, What a pox wad ye be at

VIII.

Then the parfon did fkip,

Five yards at a leap,

From his pulpit quite down to the floor;

And left every faint,

Quite ready to faint,

Leaping out of the meeting-houfe door.

1X.

Then fome without hats,
And fome without hoods,
Then out of the meeting-houfe gat:

And maggie happ'd after,

Which caufed much laughter,

Crying, What a pox wad ye be at?

Then a fanctify'd soul,

X.

Who thought to controul,

Look'd Maggie quite full in the face,

Said, Satan, How dare

You thus to appear

In this our fanctify'd place?

XI.

But Maggie he pranc'd,

He skipp'd and he danc'd,

And out of the meeting house gat,

4

And all the way long,

He kept up his fong,

Of, What a pox wad ye be at !

A good Excufe for Drinking. UPBRAID me not, capricious fair,

With drinking to excefs;

I fhould not want to drown despair,
Were your indifference lefs.

Love me, my dear, and you fhall find,
When this excufe is gone,

That all my blifs, when Chloe's kind,

Is fix'd on her alone.

The god of wine the victory

To beauty yields with joy;

For Bacchus only drinks like me,

When Ariadne's coy.

MASON'S SONG.

Tune, Leave off your foolish pratting.

I.

WE have no idle pratting,

Of either Whig or Tory s
But each agrees

To live at eafe,

And fing, or tell a story.

CHORUS.

Fill to him, to the brim ;
Let it round the table roll;

The divine tells you, wine
Chears the body and the foul.
II.

We will be men of pleasure,
Defpifing pride or party;

Whilft knaves and fools
Prefcribe us rules,

We are fincere and hearty.

Fill to him, &c.

If an accepted mason

IV.

Sould talk of high or low church,
We'll fet him down,

A fhallow crown,

And understanding no church.

Fill to him, &c.

V.

The world is all in darkness;

About us they conjecture;
But little think

A fong in drink

Succeeds the mafon's lecture.

Fill to him, &c.

VI.

Then, landlord, bring a hogfhead,

And in the corner place it

'Till it rebound

With hollow found

Each mason here shall face it.

Fill to him, &c.

I

The frugal Maid.

I.

Am a poor maiden forfaken,
Yet I bear a contented mind;

1 am a peor maiden forfaken,

Yet I'll find another more kind : For altho' I be forfaken,

Yet this I would have you to know, I ne'er was fo ill provided,

But I'd two 'r three flrings to my bow.