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| T. BIRT. To the Good Little Masters and Mistresses in Town and Country. | ||
| Here! look at the Cries of London town, For you need not travel there; But view you those of most renown, Whilst sitting in your chair. At Home—a hundred miles away, ’Tis easy now to look At the Cries of London gay, In this our little book. Yes; there in quiet you may be, Beside the winter’s fire, And read as well as see, All those that you desire. Or underneath the oak so grey, That grows beside the briar; May pass the summer’s eve away, And view each City Crier. | ||
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 Buy a Gazette? Great News! | ||
| In the Gazette great news, to-day: The enemy is beat, they say, And all are eager to be told— The news, the new events unfold. | ||
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 Come Buy my Fine Roses. | ||
| Come buy my fine roses, My myrtles and stocks; My sweet smelling balsams And close growing box. | ||
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 Buy an Almanack: New Almanacks. | ||
| My Almanacks aim at no learning at all, But only to show when the holidays fall: And tell, as by study we easily may, How many eclipses the year will display. | ||
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 Buy a Mop? Buy a Mop? | ||
| My Mop is so big, It might serve as a wig For a judge, had he no objection; And as to my brooms, They will sweep dirty rooms, And make the dust fly, to perfection. | ||
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