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And with honest old stingo was soaking his clay,
His breath-doors of life on a sudden were shut,
And he died sull as big as Dorchester butt.
His body, when long in the ground it had lain
And time into clay had dissolv'd it again,
A potter found out, in its covert so snug,
And with part of fat Toby he formed this brown jug,
Now sacred to friendship, to mirth, and mild ale;
So here's to my lovely sweet Nan of the Vale.
His breath-doors of life on a sudden were shut,
And he died sull as big as Dorchester butt.
His body, when long in the ground it had lain
And time into clay had dissolv'd it again,
A potter found out, in its covert so snug,
And with part of fat Toby he formed this brown jug,
Now sacred to friendship, to mirth, and mild ale;
So here's to my lovely sweet Nan of the Vale.
THE BEGGAR GIRL.
Over the mountain and over the moor,
Hungry and barefoot I wander forlorn;
My father is dead and my mother is poor,
And she grieves for the days that will never return
Pity, kind gentlemen, friends of humanity;
Cold blows the wind, and the night's coming on;
Give me some food for my mother in charity
Give me some food, and then I'll be gone.
Hungry and barefoot I wander forlorn;
My father is dead and my mother is poor,
And she grieves for the days that will never return
Pity, kind gentlemen, friends of humanity;
Cold blows the wind, and the night's coming on;
Give me some food for my mother in charity
Give me some food, and then I'll be gone.
