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Yet fo few were the folks that would plunder and rob,
Sir,
That the hangman was ftarving for want of a job, Sir, Oh the golden days, &c.
Then our ladies, with large ruffs tied round about
their necks faft, Wou'd gobble up a pound of beef-fleaks for their
break faft, With a clofe quill'd-up cap their noddles juft did fit,
Sir,
And they trufs'd up as tight as a rabbit for the fpit, Sir. Oh the golden clays, &c.
Then jerkins and doublets, and yellow worfted hofe,
Sir, With a pair of huge whiikers was the drefs of our
beaux, Sir, .
Strong beer they prefer'd too, to claret or hock, Sir, And no poultry they priz'd like the wing of an ox, Sir, Oh the golden days, &c.
Good neighbourhood then was as plenty too as beef,
Sir,
And the poor from the rich never wanted relief, Sir, W T hile merry went the mill-clack, the fhuttle and the
plough, Sir, And honeft men could live by the fxveat of their
brow, Sir.
Ch the golden davs, &c.
Then the folks evVy funday went twice at leaft to
church, Sir, And never left the parfon or the fermon in the lurch,
Sir,
For
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