II
My name they say is young Birdlime,
My fingers are fish-hooks, sirs;
And I my reading learnt betime, [8]
From studying pocket-books, sirs;
I have a sweet eye for a plant, [9]
And graceful as I amble,
Finedraw a coat-tail sure I can't
So kiddy is my famble. [10]
Chorus. Frisk the cly, etc.