English poem
Iv
by John Stephen Farmer (1854–1916)
"Tis by these little lays a High-padsman he thrives, "Oh take all our rhino, but pray spare our lives!" Cry the passengers who anxious all are for to run, Frightened nigh to death by his little pop-gun." Fol, de, rol.
Then, my blades, when you're bush'd, and must have the swag, Walk into tattlers, shiners, and never fear the lag; Then patter to all spicey, and tip 'em lots of fun, And blunt you'll never want while you've got a pop-gun. Fol, de, rol! la!
[1: ears] [2: highwayman] [3: fellow] [4: money] [5: run away] [6: went off; afraid] [7: highwayman] [8: highwayman] [9: money] [10: companions; out of luck; plunder] [11: watches; money; transportation] [12: talk; civilly; give] [13: money]
JACK FLASHMAN [Notes] [1842]
[By PIERCE EGAN in Captain Macheath].