The Proud Pedlar.
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SO merrily singeth the Nightingale,
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And so merrily singeth the Jay:
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And so merrily singed the proud Pedlar
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As he walked along the Highway.
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The Bag at my Back is worth Twenty Pounds,
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In Gold and in good Money;
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And I would freely part with it all,
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For to kiss a Nigh[t] with a Lady.
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The Lady lookd out of her window,
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And hearing the Pedlar sing;
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Sing on, sing on, thou proud Pedlar,
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The Song that thou didst begin.
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The Pedlar lookd over his Left-shoulder,
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He looked so neat and so trim;
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I never sung a Song in all my whole Life,
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But I could sing it again.
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The Bag at my Back is worth Twenty Pounds,
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In Gold and in good Money;
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And I would freely part with it all,
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For to kiss a Night with a Lady.
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The Lady took the Pedlars Hand,
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And thro the Hall him led;
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Into a large and spacious Room,
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Where Cushions and Pillows were laid.
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The Pedlar lay with the Lady all Night,
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Until it was Break of Day;
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And then he thought of his Tom Pack,
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When he had no Sport to play
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Heres Twenty Pounds the Pedlar said,
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Fo to buy Gloves Jewels and Rings.
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So I may have my little Tom Pack,
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For to get me my Living.
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The Lady took the Pedlars Pack,
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And set it upon her Knee.
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If you would give me twice Twenty Pounds,
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You shall have no Pack of me.
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I will make Grass grow the Pedlar said,
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And where there did grow none.
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And I will stand at the Hall-Gate,
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Till your wedded Lord comes home.
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At Night her own wedded Lord came home,
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And eeing the Pedlar there stand.
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What dost thou here thou proud Pedlar?
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Now this of thee I do demand.
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Yesterday I made a Feast
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For Pedlars thirty-and-three.
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And wanted a Mortar to pound the Spice,
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And borrowd one of your Lady.
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The Mortar was your own Ladys,
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But the Pestle was my own;
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But now she has got my little Tom Pack,
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And I wish the truth was but known.
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Come give him his Pack thou proud Pedlar,
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What makes you here let him stand?
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Come give him his Pack, and let him be gone,
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And this of you I do command.
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Come take thy Pack, thou proud Pedlar,
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Come take this Pack of thine.
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For never a Pedlar for thy sake,
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Shall pound Spice in a Mortar of mine.
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Now this is well juggld the Pedlar said
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And it is well juggld of me:
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For now I have got my little Tom Pack,
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And kist all Night with a Lady.
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By my wanton Tricks I lost this Pack,
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By my Wits I have got it again;
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And if I do live these Five hundred Years,
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I will never come there again.
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