EDWIN'S PILLS, &c, SONG

Dear Kathleen, you, no doubt, Find sleep how very sweet 'tis; Dogs bark, and cocks have crow'd out, You never dream how late 'tis. This morning gay, I post away, To have with you a bit of play, On two legs rid Along to bid Good-morrow to your nightcap. Last night a little bowsy With whiskey, ale, and cyder, I ask'd young Betty Blowzy To let me sit beside her. Her anger rose As sour as sloes, The little gipsy cock'd her nose; Yet here I've rid Along to bid Good-morrow to your nightcap.