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EBBA 30420

British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
Gallantry All-a-Mode:
Or, The Bully to the Life.
Here Fops & Boistrous Bully-Rocks are shown,
The Gallant Feats they Practice in the Town;
They pass their Golden hours away in pleasure,
Detest those doting Fools that live by measure.
To a New Play-house Tune: Viz. Let the Traytors Plot on.

LEt the Cinick Zealots,
Impose on Dull Sots,
Rub Brethrens Gumbs with false Corals,
Let the Dull Bearded Crowd,
Insult and grow proud,
And Preach up their Wheedling Morals:
Let the Grave Block-heads sit,
Muster up all their Wit,
To Poach on the Sniveling Sister;
Whilst that Stout Hectors we
Do court, the jolly she
That with fiery sparkling Carbuncle dos glister.
Cho. Let Bumpers go round,
Let Bumpers go round,
Whilst thus double armed we stand to our ground,
And the dull Rogue that dare,
Bawk his Liquor and spare;
Kick him out,
Kick him out,
Whilst Bumpers go round.

Let the Rascals declaim,
Shew the gay punks their shame
Cry down their Paint & their patch-boxes
Let the Block-heads repine
At our brisk sparkling Wine,
And covet our Goddess like Doxes:
Let each whining dull Rogue,
Fawn, Decoy, and Cologue,
And wish to depose his old Gown Sir,
Quit all Orders, turn Bully,
And at length prove a Cully,
And like Bullyrocks to go roar about town Sir:
Cho. Let Bumpers go round,
Let Bumpers go round,
Whilst thus double armed we stand to our ground
And the dull Rogue that dare,
Bawk his Liquor and spare,
Kick him out,
Kick him out
Whilst Bumpers go round.

WHilst like Rockets we rove,
We do immitate Jove,
Both handsome and ugly we plunder,
With drawn trusty Steel,
The streets we do Reel,
Like Cannons with shouts we do thunder:
Our sole joys are Kisses.
Bestowd by brisk Misses,
We Lavish and wallow in Pleasure,
We detest the dull Fool.
That does moap like an Owl,
whose poor prisoner soul is confined by mea-sure:
Ch. Let Bumpers, etc.

We scorn the fools track,
Whilst we Revel in Sack,
And in natures full plenty do lavish,
Our labouring Souls,
We refresh with full Bowls,
Whilst other poor Mortals live slavish
All the night we do play,
And sleep all the day,
And we know no end of our Horning.
Our full Bowls do weep,
Every each Star asleep,
And with drwzy bowls we salute the dull Morning:
Cho. Let Bumpers, etc.

Bright jewels we have,
Then why should we crave
The treasuries of the Magull, Boys,
Our Noses do swell,
With pure Tarbuncle,
Then why do we sit all so dull Boys?
If the Moon hide her head,
Our Noses so Red,
Directs our light heels as we stagger,
And whilst that were Drunk
With a brisk bouncing Punk,
Like the young jolly God, we look big & do swagger
Cho. Let Bumpers go round,
Let Bumpers go round,
Whilst thus double armed we stand to our ground
And the dull Rogue that dare
Bawk his Liquor and spare,
Kick him out,
Kick him out,
Whilst Bumpers go round.

To the Play-house we reel,
Then about we do wheel,
And All-a-amode of the brisk Monsieur.
In the midst of the Pit,
Like our selves we do sit,
That is right Bully-rocks of the town sir
We cringe and then shew,
Shapes Proteus ner knew,
And with Volly shots we do thunder:
Glass windows in rage,
We oft do ingage,
And a piping-hot Quean we do hire to lye under.
Cho. Let Bumpers go round,
Let Bumpers go round,
While thus double armed we stand to our ground
And the dull Rogue that dare
Bawk his Liquor and spare,
Kick him out,
Kick him out,
Whilst Bumpers go round.

Then oftimes the Watch
Us Hectors does catch,
And nabs us in this late Rencounter,
With Swords and with stones,
We break the Loons bones,
And so flye the Cage or the Compter:
Thus like Pyrates o'th town,
We roam up and down,
And scowre the main Sea of the City,
And he that durst beat
The late Watch in the street,
Among us Bully-rocks, is accounted for witty.
Cho. Let Bumpers go round,
Let Bumpers go round,
Whilst thus double armed we stand to our ground
And the dull Rogue that dare
Bawk his Liquor and spare,
Kick him out,
Kick him out,
Whilst Bumpers go round.


FINIS.
Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and
J. Clarke.

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