And there’ll be pies and spice dumplings, and there’ll be bacon and peas;
Besides a great lump of beef boiled, and they may get crowdies who please:
To eat such good things as these are, I’m sure ye’ve but seldom the luck;
Beside, for to make us some pottage, there’ll be a sheep’s head and a pluck.
Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.
Of sausages there’ll be plenty, black puddings, sheep fat, and neats’ tripes;
Besides, for to warm all your noses, great store of tobacco and pipes:
A room, they say, there’s provided for us at “The Old Jacob’s Well;”
The bridegroom he went there this morning, and spoke for a barrel o’ yell.
Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.