STate and Ambition, all Joy to great Cæsar,
Sawney shall ne’er be my Colly my Cow;
All Hail to the Shades, all Joy to the Bridegroom,
And call upon Dobbin with Hi, Je, ho.
Remember ye Whigs, what was formerly done;
And Jenny come tye my bonny Cravat,
If I live to grow old for I find I go down,
For I cannot come every Day to Wooe.
Jove in his Throne was a Fumbler, Tom Farthing,
And Jockey and Jenny together did lie;
Oh Mother Roger: Boys, fill us a Bumper,
For why will ye die my poor Cælia, ah why?
Hark! how thundring Cannons do roar,
Ladies of London both wealthy and fair;
Charon make hast and Ferry me over,
Lilli burlero bullen a lah.
Chloris awake, Four-pence-half-penny-farthing,
Give me the Lass that is true Country bred;
Like John of Gaunt I walk in Covent-Garden,
I am a Maid and a very good Maid:
Twa bonny Lads was Sawney and Jockey,
The Delights of the Bottle and Charms of good Wine;
Wading the Water so deep my sweet Moggy,
Cold and Raw, let it run in the right Line.
Old Obadiah sings Ave-Maria,
Sing Lulla-by-Baby with a Dildo;
The old Woman and her Cat sat by the Fire,
Now this is my Love d’y’ like her ho?
Old Charon thus preached to his Pupil Achilles,
And under this Stone here lies Gabriel John;
Happy was I at the fight of Fair Phillis,
What should a Young Woman do with an old Man?
There’s old Father Peters with his Romish Creatures,
There was an old Woman sold Pudding and Pies,
Cannons with Thunder shall fill them with Wonder,
I once lov’d a Lass that had bright rowling Eyes:
There’s my Maid Mary, she does mind her Dairy,
I took to my Heels and away I did run;
And bids him prepare to be happy to Morrow,
Alass! I don’t know the right end of a Gun.
My Life and Death does lye both in your Power,
And every Man to his Mind, Shrewsbury for me;
On the Bank of a Brook as I sat Fishing,
Shall I Die a Maid and never Married be:
Uds bobs let Oliver now be forgotten,
Joan is as good as my Lady in the Dark;
Cuckolds are Christians Boys all the World over,
And here’s a full Bumper to Robin John Clark.
The Trooper Watering his Nagg.
[[Listen]]
THere was an old Woman liv’d under a Hill,
Sing Trolly lolly, lolly, lolly, lo;
She had good Beer and Ale for to sell,
Ho, ho, had she so, had she so, had she so;
She had a Daughter her name was Siss,
Sing Trolly lolly, lolly, lolly, lo;
She kept her at Home for to welcome her Guest,
Ho, ho, did she so, did she so, did she so.
There came a Trooper riding by,
Sing trolly, &c.
He call’d for Drink most plentifully,
Ho, ho, did he so, &c.
When one Pot was out he call’d for another,
Sing trolly, &c.
He kiss’d the Daughter before the Mother,
Ho, ho, did he so, &c.
And when Night came on to Bed they went,
Sing trolly, &c.
It was with the Mother’s own Consent,
Ho, ho, was it so, &c.
Quoth she what is this so stiff and warm,
Sing trolly &c.
’Tis Ball my Nag he will do you no harm,
Ho, ho, wont he so, &c.
But what is this hangs under his Chin,
Sing trolly, &c.
’Tis the Bag he puts his Provender in,
Ho, ho, is it so, &c.
Quoth he what is this? Quoth she ’tis a Well,
Sing trolly, &c.
Where Ball your Nag may drink his fill,
Ho, ho, may he so, &c.
But what if my Nag should chance to slip in,
Sing trolly, &c.
Then catch hold of the Grass that grows on the brim,
Ho, ho, must I so, &c.
But what if the Grass should chance to fail,
Sing trolly, &c.
Shove him in by the Head, pull him out by the Tail,
Ho, ho, must I so, &c.
A Trip to the Jubilee. The Tune by Mr. R. Loe.
[[Listen]]