y'd,
And may now for ever rue;
The Pain lies in my Back and Side,
_I cannot tell what to do_.

Alass I was kind and mild,
But now the same I rue;
Having no Father for my Child,
_I cannot_, &c.

I took but a Touch in jest,
Believe me this is true;
Yet I have proved, I protest,
_And cannot_, &c.

He crav'd my Virginity,
And gave me his own in lieu;
In this I find I was too kind,
_And cannot_, &c.

Each Damsel will me degrade,
And so will the young Men too;
I'm neither Widow, Wife, nor Maid,
_I cannot_, &c.

A Cradle I must provide,
A Chair and Posset too;
Nay, likewise twenty Things beside,
_I cannot_, &c.

When I was a Maiden fair,
Such Sorrows I never knew;
But now my Heart is full of Care,
_I cannot_, &c.

Oh what will become of me,
My Belly's as big as two;
'Tis with a Two-legg'd Tympany,
_I cannot tell what to do_.

You Lasses that hear my Moan,
If you will your Joys renew;
Besure, while Married, lye alone,
_Or else you at length may rue_.

I came of as good a Race,
As most is in _Lynn_'s fair Town;
And cost a great deal bringing up,
_But a little Thing laid me down_.

_The Jovial Tinker._

[Music]

There was a Jovial Tinker,
Which was a good Ale drinker;
He never was a Shrinker,
Believe me this is true;
And he came from the wild of _Kent_,
When all his Money was gone and spent,
Which made him look like a _Jack-a-Lent_,
_And Joan's Ale is new,_
_And Joan's Ale is new Boys,_
_And Joan's Ale is new._

The Tinker he did settle,
Most like a Man of Mettle,
And vow'd to pawn his Kettle,
Now mark what did ensue;
His Neighbours they flock'd in apace,
To see _Tom Tinker's_ comely Face,
Where they drank soundly for a space,
_Whilst_ Joan's _Ale_, &c.

The Cobler and the Broom Man,
Came next into the Room, Man,
And said they would drink for boon Man,
Let each one take his due;
But when good Liquor they had found,
They cast their Caps upon the Ground,
And so the Tinker he drank round,
_Whilst_ Joan's _Ale_, &c.

The Rag-Man being weary,
With the Burden he did carry,
He swore he would be merry,
And spend a Shilling or two;
And he told his Hostess to her Face,
The Chimney-corner was his Place,
And he began to drink apace,
_And_ Joan's _Ale_, &c.

The Pedlar he drew nigher,
For it was his desire,
To throw the Rags i'th' Fire,
And burn the bundle blue;
So whilst they drank whole Flashes,
And threw about t