And lug out some squandering coins;
For now ’tis too late to be grudging,—
Thou cannot go home with bare groins.
How the warfaring companies parted,
The Muse chuseth not to proclaim;
But, ’tis thought, that, being rather down-hearted,
They quietly went—“toddling hame.”
Now ye Collier callants, so clever,
Residing ’tween Tyne and the Wear,
Beware, when you fuddle together,