The Baker's Lamentation
For the great Loss of
The pretended Worshipful Esquire WICKHAM.
Tune of The Old man's wish.
Licensed according to Order.
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AH how I sigh! and how I moan!
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Now the good Squire Wickham's gone:
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I hope his Worship now is blest,
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I wish his Soul eternal rest.
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He bequeath'd Five hundred pound,
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The Devil knows where 'tis to be found:
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For which I hope his Worship's blest,
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I wish his Soul eternal rest.
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To shew his Money he did not grutch,
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He's kindly left my Wife as much:
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For which we hope his Worship's blest.
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I wish his Soul eternal rest.
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But let's consider my dear honey,
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What we shall do with all our Money:
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For which I hope his Worship's blest,
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And wish his Soul eternal rest.
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But that which pleases me much the rather,
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Is, that we shall have it altogether:
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For which I hope his Worship's blest,
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And wish his Soul eternal rest.
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There's Betty who minded was by no man,
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Is turn'd by her Legacy Gentlewoman:
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For which she hopes his Worship's blest,
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And wishes his Soul, etc.
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The Church-Warden too, may pray for me,
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For helping him to his Legacy,
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Who begg'd his Worship might be blest,
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And pray'd for his Souls, etc.
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Five hundred pound he has given more,
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To th' good Church-Wardens in trust for th' poor
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For which they hope his Worship's blest,
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And wish his Soul, etc.
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But all I fear the poor Old Wretches,
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Will never get it from out their clutches:
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But if the Poor are thus opprest,
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His Worships Soul will never rest.
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When th' Poor still walk with empty Pitcher,
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And find they're ne'er a cross the richer,
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Thus when they handle their empty Purses,
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They'll change their Prayers all into Curses.
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Some say that we an Estate shall find,
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To pay us when the Devil is blind:
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For which we hope his Worship's blest,
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And wish his Soul eternal rest.
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For now the Baker finds the Jest,
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He prays no more for's Worship's Rest,
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But swears, if living, he now would take him,
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And for his Worship's Bounty Bake him.
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The Church-Wardens too, it does so vex 'em,
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To think how th' Parish will perplex 'em:
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Say rest the Bones of Squire Wickham,
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They presently answer, the Devil pick 'em.
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Since never was Squire so misus'd,
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And for his bounty so abus'd:
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His liberal Legacies does so mad 'em,
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They all could wish the Devil had him.
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