(2)
The Fortunate WEAVER’S UPRISE.
LAST night as I came into town,
I was both wet and weary,
Into a tavern I did go,
hoping relief was near me:
They conducted me to the tap-room,
I call’d for punch was smoaking,
My landlady and I sat down,
and there we fell a jokeing.
We drank about till it was out,
then I call’d in another—
When in the shop we heard a rap,
the daughter calling mother.
She said, my child, forbear a while,
and do your best endeavour,
For lease my heart, if I can part
this darling sporting weaver.
I put my arme around her neck,
her cheeks they blush’d like coses;
She said, young man, call what you will,
you will not be impos’d on.
I took her gently by the hand,
and embrac’d her in my arms,
With one consent we went to bed,
and there we slept till morning.
