The City Rambler;
OR,
The Merry Cries of London Town.
To the Tune of The Spinning-wheel. Licensed according to Order.
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I Pray now listen to this Song,
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It is of Cries which you may hear,
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As you the Streets may pass along,
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In London City e'ery Year;
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As you do walk them up and down,
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These are the Cries of London Town.
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Fine Oranges and Lemmons fair,
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they are as good as e'er was cut;
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Yet I'll not pick and cull my Ware
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for e'er a Drab, or dirty Slut:
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Thus Billings-gate begins to frown
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These are the Cries of London Town.
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Here's Artichoaks and Cucumbers
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Colliflowers fresh and gay;
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I'll use you well, my worthy Sirs,
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my Customers, now come away;
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I have choice Ware I'll lay a Crown;
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These are the Cries of London Town.
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Have you any old Brass to mend?
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a Kettle? Skellet? Frying pan? here;
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I'll use each Woman as a Friend,
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and stop her Hole, you need not fear:
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I please the fair, the black, and brown,
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These are the Cries, etc.
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Will you have any Milk to day?
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sweet Bridget, Nancy, Kate, or Prue;
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Or likewise curious Curds and Whey,
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I have as choice as e'er you knew;
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To sell them I walk up and down,
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These are the Cries, etc.
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Here's honest Codpiece Points and Pins,
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Thread-Laces three, for one penny
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And Maids bring out your Coney-skins
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all Colours are a Case to me;
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The black, the grizzle, grey, and brown
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These are the Cries, etc.
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Work for the Cooper now I cry,
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and daily do for Labour seek,
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I call as I am passing by,
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young Lasses if your Vessels leak,
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I'll freely Hoop you up and down,
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These are the Cries; etc.
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Old Sutes and Cloaks, or Taffety?
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Silk-stockings, Velvet, Stuffs in grain?
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Or have you any Brass Money
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to feague? and cheat the World again
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For this I travel up and down
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These are the Cries, etc.
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I am a Chimney-sweeper Black,
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behold my Shackle, Broom and Poles,
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Which here are hanging at my Back
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to cleanse young Lasses smutty holes
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I'll cleanse your Funnels up and down,
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These are the Cries, etc.
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Here's knives to grind, here's knives to grind
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and Taylors too, bring out your shear[s]
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For if they are not sharp you'll find,
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in Cabbage you'll be in Arrears;
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That will your Calling quite run down
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These are the Cries, etc.
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Come buy a Steel, or a Tinder-Box,
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or else a curious large Horn Comb,
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Young Women with your powder'd Locks,
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for your kind Husbands now at home
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To trim and comb his Cuckold's crown
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These are the Cries of London Town.
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FINIS.
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