To Market Street, to a fireworks’ store,
And bought a load of crackers red,
And torpedoes round like balls of lead,
And great big whirlers which you light
And then run off with all your might,
And flags and kites and pistol toys:
The kind to give to little boys;
And rockets which go whizzing high
To shoot bright stars around the sky;
And sticks to hold and turn about