And put them on my Spit Sir.
In Weavering and in Fulling,
I have such passing Skill Sir;
And underneath my Weavering-Beam,
There stands a Fulling-Mill Sir:
To have good Wives displeasure,
I would be very loath Sir;
The Water runs so near my Hand,
It over-thicks my Cloath Sir.
Sometimes I am a Shoe-maker,