4
hope you will never know the loss of a leg or an eye.
Heaven bleſs you for your charity,
Then puſh about the can, fol de roll
In begging a farthing, I'm poor and old,
In ſpending a I'm (illegible)and bold,
When a brave full company I ſee
It's my noble maters, your charity,"—
But when a traveller I meet alone,
"Stand and deliver, or I'll knock you down"
All day for a wandering mumper paſe,
All night—Oh a barn, and a buxom laſs.
chorusI'm clothed in rags,
I'm hung with bags,
That around me wags:
I've a big for my ſalt,
A'bag for my malt,
A bag for the leg of gooſe;
For my oats a bag
For my groats a bag,
And a bottle to hold my booze: & c.
Jack's disaster.
Come all you roaring boys, that delight in roaring noise.
I compare it to nothing but laughter,
When a sailor comes on shore, with his go silver store,
there's no one can get rid of it faster.
