Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/554

 Her father he makes cabbage-nets, And through the streets does cry 'em; Her mother she sells laces long To such as please to buy 'em But sure such folks could ne'er beget So sweet a girl as Sally! She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley.

When she is by, I leave my work, I love her so sincerely, My master comes like any Turk, And bangs me most severely: But let him bang his bellyful, I'll bear it all for Sally, She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley.

Of all the days that 's in the week I dearly love but one day— And that 's the day that comes betwixt A Saturday and Monday, For then I'm drest all in my best To walk abroad with Sally; She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley.

My master carries me to church, And often am I blamed Because I leave him in the lurch As soon as text is named,