I
Happy the days when I vorked away,
In my usual line in the prigging lay, [1]
Making from this, and that, and t'other,
A tidy living without any bother:
When my little crib was stored with swag, [2]
And my cly vas a veil-lined money bag, [3]
Jolly vas I, for I feared no evil,
Funked at naught, and pitched care to the devil.