CHORUS.
Singing higlety pickelty fast who will,
I wish poor folk it’s had their fill,
Good beef and pudding the famine to kill,
Much better than a fast day.
Some of them laugh’d, some fell asleep,
And out of the house some did creep;
To please the Bishops and black sheep,
They did appoint a fast day,
The twenty-fourth of March it was the day