Without a shoe or stockin,’
And all in rags, there’s not a doubt
But what my looks is shockin’.
But wet and dirt I never minds:
A hobjec’ melancholy,
I bears it all, because I finds
Thereby a friend in Solly.
I’m bound I’d get a underd pounds,
By cadgin’ out of Solly,
His wealth and riches so abounds,