(8)
It is well kent, their face they paint,
they are ſo vain and idle;
To bulk and dreſs, more time they paſs,
than they do on their Bible.
With muffs and frils, and cardinals,
made of the fineſt ſcarlet,
They worn are, I do declare,
by many a common harlot.
Their qualitie, come show to me,
you’ll not know’t by their cleeding,
Dear neighbour, then, I’ll tell you plain,
you’ll find it by their breeding.
They curſe and ſwear, and dominier,
and ſcold like any randy ;
Their morning drink, I really think,
is whiſky, gin or brandy.
And if they chance to prove with child,
or loſe their reputation,
O then ſets up a tipling-houſe,
and that’s their occupation.
Such conduct leads from whores to thieves
but ’mark the diſmal ſtory!
By hangy’s hands their lives they end,
and that’s call’d Tyburn’s glory.
Fal-de-ral-lal de-ral.
FINIS.
