Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 2, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/97

89 ANDREW JONES.

I hate that Andrew Jones: he'll breed

His children up to waste and pillage.

I wish the press-gang or the drum

With its tantara sound would come,

And sweep him from the village!

I said not this, because he loves

Through the long day to swear and tipple;

But for the poor dear sake of one

To whom a foul deed he had done,

A friendless Man, a travelling Cripple!