II.
Then line thy worn doublet with ale,
Gaffer-Gray;
And warm thy old heart with a glass:
'Nay, but credit I've none;
And my money's all gone;
Then say how may that come to pass?
Well-a-day!'
III.
Hie away to the house on the brow,
Gaffer-Gray;
And knock at the jolly priest's door.
'The priest often preaches
Against worldly riches;
But ne'er gives a mite to the poor,
Well-a-day!'
IV.
The lawyer lives under the hill,
Gaffer-Gray;
Warmly fenced both in back and in front.
'He will fasten his locks,
And will threaten the stocks,
Should he ever more find me in want,
Well-a-day!'
V.
The squire has fat beeves and brown ale,
Gaffer-Gray;
And the season will welcome you there.
'His fat beeves and his beer,
And his merry new-year
Are all for the flush and the fair,
Well-a-day!'
VI.
My keg is but low I confess,
Gaffer-Gray;
What then? While it lasts man, we'll live.
The poor man alone,
When he hears the poor moan,
Of his morsel a morsel will give,
Well-a-day!