But tho’ I could not tell HER name, Her face I’d often seen,
“She stood among the glittering throng,” with Jacky in the green.
A ladle in one hand she bore, a salt box in the other;
And of the Sooty Cupids near, she seemed the teeming mother.
“I met HER at the Fancy fair,” with fancy lads around her,
And with a blow she laid one low, as flat as any flounder.
“I saw HER at the Beulah Spa,” along with Gipsy Joe,
A-riding on a donkey rough, vitch, somehow vouldn’t go.
I saw HER ply her sybil art, and pick up cash like fun,
For heads and tails she gave them hearts, and pleasur’d every one.