The Lady that sews, and knits her hose,
And mends her clothes, and rubs her nose,
And comes and goes, without fingers and toes!
You may take a slice of roast beef on the ice;
At the Wellington Tap, and Mother Red-cap,
The stout runs down remarkably brown!
To the Thimble and Thistle, the Pig and Whistle,
Worthy Sir Felix has sent some choice relics
Of liquor, I'm told, to keep out the cold!
If you 've got a sweet tooth, there 's the gingerbread