They set up shop in Honey Lane,
And thither flies did swarm amain,
Some from France, some from Spain,
Train'd in by scurvy panders.
At last this honey pot grew dry,
Then both were forcéd for to fly
To Flanders, to Flanders.
Another to the tune of The Coranto.
I peeped in at the Woolsack,
O, what a goodly sight did I