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23

I'll ease thee o'thy grief an' pain,
an‘ always supply thy bit want.
We'll kiss &c.

Wi‘ joy it's she bang‘d out her han‘,
your offer, dear love, I accept;
I vow that young Andrew's the man
I always will daut like a pet.
Thou joys of joys I'll taste!
for which I've gi‘en mony a gaent:
By young Andrew it's now I'm embrac'd,
an' weel he supplies my bit want.

We'll kiss, an' cuddle, an' a‘,
cuddle, an' kiss an' a‘;
It's now we're firm buckl'd thegither,
share joys the largest o' a.

THE

BRITISH GAME-COCK

At Waterloo.

Contemplating the feather’d flock,
From the Ostrich to the Craw,
There’s nane o’ them can sing a Sang
Like Cocky-leary-law.

The Rook she builds upon the Pine,
The Swallow to the wa’,