THE
TOPER'S TALE,
OVER HIS
JUG OF ALE.
Halloo, whoop, my brave boys! who love frolic and fun,
To sit all day boozing, and bask in the sun!
Let him come at my whistle, & seat himself here
Like a brave jolly fellow, and toss off his beer.
'Twas just at the door of the alehouse he stood,
At the old Cat & Bagpipes, there close by the wood;
You go fast by the church, and turn down the left hand,
Just beyond it the stocks and the whipping-post stand.
'Twas on the long bench there, beneath the old oak,
Whose shade's so refreshing, Tom Toper thus spoke:
Snip heard him, the tailor, just over the way,
And was down in a twinkling to hear him so say:
That's right brother Snip, here together we'll stitch,
If you'll cut into tune, into rhyme I will hitch;
So let the dull souls on the shop-board seek wealth,