Iii

For such pretty Pledges, as Lullies from Hedges. We are not in fear to be drawn upon Sledges, But sometimes the Whip doth make us to skip And then we from Tything to Tything do trip; But when in a poor Boozing-Can we do bib it, We stand more in dread of the Stocks than the Gibbet And therefore a merry mad Beggar I'll be For when it is night in the Barn tumbles he.