SONG, Bow Wow Wow

I'll sing you song, faith I'm singing it now here, I don't mean t' affront either small or big bow wow here: The subject I have chosen it is the canine race, To prove, like us, two leged dogs, they are a very fine race, Bow, wow, wow, Fal, lal, lal, addi, addi, Bow, wow, wow.

Like you and I other dogs may be counted sad dogs; And as we won't drink water, some may think us mad dogs: A courtier is a spaniel, a citizen's a dull dog, A soldier is a mastiff, a sailor's a bull dog. Bow, wow, &c.

An old maid comes from church, to poor no lady kinder; A lusty dog her footman, with prayer-book behind her: A poor boy asks a farthing, gets plenty of good kicking; But little Shock, her lap-dog, must have a roasted chicken. Bow, wow, &c.

When silly dogs, for property, uncle, son, and brother, Grin and snarl look mighty gruff, and worry one another; Should they a bit of equity from justice beg the loan of, That cunning dog the lawer, Snap, carries quick the bone off. Bow, wow, &c.

A poet's a lank greyhound, for the public he runs game down; A critic is a cur that strives to run his fame down; And though he cannot follow where the noble sport invites him, "He slyly steals behind, and by the heel he bites him." Bow, wow, &c.

You've a choice pack of friends while to feed 'em "you are able; "Your dog, for his morsel, chrouches under your table; "Your friends they will turn tail in misfortune or disaster; "But your poor faithful dog will ne'er forsake his "master." Bow, wow, &c.