Page:New song called, Bonaparte's comin', or, Rouse brother Britons.pdf/8

 I had the pretty knack, for to whinge and to cryː

By the young, and by the old, much pity’d was I,

And a-begging, &c,

Fatherleſs, & motherleſs, was always my complaint,

And none that ever ſaw me, but took me for a ſaint.

And a-begging, &c.

I begged for my maſter, and got him ſtore of pelt;

But now I'm my own maſter, and do beg tor myſelf.

And a-begging, &c.

To Pimlico’s we'll go, where we will merry be,

With ev’ry man a can in's hand, and wench upon

his knee.

And a-begging, &e.

When we are thus diſpoſed, we tumble on the graſs,

With a long patched coat, for to hide a bonny laſs.

And a-begging, &c.

I live within a hollow tree and there I pay no rent,

Kind providence provides for me, and i am well< content.

And a-begging, &c.

I fear no plots againſt me, but live in open cell;

Then who would be a king, when a beggar lives

ſo well?

And a-begging we will go.

we’ll go, we’ll go; we’ll go.

An’ a-begging we will go.

Printed by T. Johnston, Falkirk, where of Pamphlets & Ballads may be had, in

on most reasonable terms.