THE
Jovial Beggars Merry Crew.
When Beggars that have Coyn good store,
yet still like Vagrants live,
They do but onely Cheat the Poor,
tis pitty them to give.
Tune of, A figg for France.
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THere was a jovial Beggar bold,
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Who often lodged in the Cold;
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He framd himself a Wooden Leg,
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Which pitty movd as he did Beg;
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And mournfully he did complain,
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That from his Cradle he was Lame:
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But tho the world us Beggars call,
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A Beggars Trades the best of all.
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And several sorts of Bags have we,
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To serve us in Necessity:
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Theres one for Bread, & one for Salt,
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When Cripple-like we seem to Halt:
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A Bag for Bread, and one for Cheese,
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While we do eat of what we please:
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And tho the world us Beggars call,
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A Beggars Trades the best of all.
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And when we see a Spark go by,
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O Lord preserve you Sir, we cry;
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Take pitty on the Fatherless,
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That God Almighty may you bless:
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My broken Limbs good Sir, behold,
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Ene killd with hunger, starvd with cold
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But tho the world us Beggars call,
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A Beggars Trades the best of all.
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Tis long since my poor Parents dyd,
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That for me used to provide;
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And Charity so cold is grown
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The like before was never known:
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Oh pray Sir, pitty my destress,
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Im Lame, half Blind, and Motherless;
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Then let the world us Beggars call,
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A Beggars Trades the best of all.
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If some will not pull out their Purse,
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In heart we oft lend them a Curse;
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Tho we like Beggars seem to live,
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We have more coyn than some that give
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If some kind hearts did know our store,
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They never would relieve us more:
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And tho the wor[l]d us Beggars call,
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A Beggars, etc.
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And some that do like Cripples lye,
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Have got the art to whine and Cry;
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Both Old and Young that do pass by,
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Take pitty on our Poverty:
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Some do us pitty, and are willing,
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To give us sixpence or a shilling:
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And tho the world us Beggars call,
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A Beggars, etc.
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I was brought up toth Begging Trade,
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And I full many a face have made,
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Whereby I got my Master store,
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But now for him ile Beg no more;
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I am set up for my own self,
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By Begging get good store of Pelf:
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And tho the world us Beggars call,
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A Beggars, etc.
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Sometimes in Farmers Barns lye we,
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And sometimes in a Hollow Tree;
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No Rent we pay, nor none we mean,
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Each Mort with us lives like a Queen,
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And when the Sun at Night do[es] shine,
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We go to telling of our Coyn:
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Then let the world us Beggars call,
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A Beggars, etc.
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No Plots against us can there be,
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Who Objects seem of Charity;
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But should the honest Givers think,
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How we like Swine sometimes do Drink
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Their Charity they would forbear,
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Which sometimes fills our hearts with care;
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And tho the world us Beggars call,
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A Beggars, etc:
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Other Folks Children we do take,
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And for them beg for pittys sake;
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But such deceitful Knaves we be,
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We speak not one word true in three:
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And tho like Beggars we do live,
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Our lives to us Contentment give:
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Then let the world us Beggars call,
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A Beggars Lifes the best of all.
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