I
As Flashey Joe one day did pass
Through London streets, so jolly,
A crying fish, he spied a lass
'Twas Tothill's pride, sweet Molly!
He wip'd his mug with bird's-eye blue [1]
He cried,—"Come, buss your own dear Joe"; [2]
She turned aside, alas! 'tis true
And bawled out—"Here's live mackerel, O!
Four a shilling, mackerel, O!
All alive, O!
New mackerel, O."