III
A night bird oft I'm in the cage, [11]
But my rum-chants ne'er fail, sirs;
The dubsman's senses to engage, [12]
While I tip him leg-bail, sirs; [13]
There's not, for picking, to be had,
A lad so light and larky, [14]
The cleanest angler on the pad [15]
In daylight or the darkey. [16]
Chorus. Frisk the cly, etc.