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The Beggar.

A Beggar l am, of low degree,
For I’m of a begging family,
I'm lame, but when in a fighting 'bout
I whip off my leg and fight it out;
In running I leav: the beadle behind
And a laſe I can ſee, tho'alas! I am blind
Through town and village I gaily jog,
My music, the bell of my little clog.

Chorus, I’m cloth’d in rags,
I’m hung with bags,
That around me wags;
I’ve a bag for my salt
A bag for my malt
A bag for the eg of a goose
For my oats a bag.
For my groats a bag.
And a bottle to hold my booze:
It's now heaven bleſs you for your charity,
And then puſh the can about, fol de roldere.

SPEAKING

Bleſs your noble honor, and your good lady,
hope you will never know the loss of a leg or an eye.
Heaven bleſs you for your charity,
Then puſh about the can, fol de roll

In begging a farthing, I'm poor and old,
In ſpending a I'm (illegible)and bold,
When a brave full company I ſee
It's my noble maters, your charity,"—
But when a traveller I meet alone,
"Stand and deliver, or I'll knock you down"
All day for a wandering mumper paſe,
All night—Oh a barn, and a buxom laſs.

chorusI'm clothed in rags,
I'm hung with bags,
That around me wags:
I've a big for my ſalt,
A'bag for my malt,
A bag for the leg of gooſe;
For my oats a bag
For my groats a bag,
And a bottle to hold my booze: & c.


This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.

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