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 Wi' ſing'd ſheep-heads, and a haggies,

and ſcadlips to ſup till ye ſpew. Fy let &c.

And there will be lapper'd-milk kebbocks,

and ſowens, and farls, and baps,

Wi’ ſwats and well ſcraped paunches,

and brandy in ſtoups and in caps

And there will be meal-kail and cuſtocks,

wi' ſkink to ſup till we rive,

And roaſts to roaſt on a brander,

of fleuks that were taken alive. Fy, &c.

Scrapt haddocks, wilks, dulſe and tangle,

and a mill of good ſniſhing to prie;

When weary with eating and drinking,

we'll riſe up and dance till we die.

Then fy let us a' to the Bridal,

for there will be lilting there

For Jockey's to be marry'd to Maggy,

the laſs wi' the gouden hair.

EORGE he is the mildeſt King,

that ever ſat on Britain's throne,

Behold how wiſely he has acted,

to his ſubjects every one

But we're of a rebellious nature,

and our minds are ne'er content,

Likewiſe the moſt of our reflections

are on the King and Parliament.