TOM Tinker's my true love, and I am his Dear,
And I will go with him his Budget to bear;
For of all the young Men he has the best luck,
All the Day he will Fuddle, at Night he will ——
This way, that way, which way you will,
I am sure I say nothing that you can take Ill.
With Hammer on Kettle he tabbers all Day,
At Night he will tumble on Strumil or Hay;
He calls me his Jewel, his delicate Duck,
And then he will take up my Smicket to ——