Читать книгу The Newcastle Song Book; or, Tyne-Side Songster - Various - Страница 11

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Neighbours, I'm come for to tell ye,

Our Skipper and Mall's to be wed;

And if it be true what they're saying,

Egad we'll be all rarely fed!

They've brought home a shoulder of mutton,

Besides two thumping fat geese,

And when at the fire they're roasting,

We're all to have sops in the greese.

Blind Willy's to play on the fiddle.

And there will be pies and spice dumplings,

And there will be bacon and peas;

Besides a great lump of beef boiled,

And they may get crowdies who please;

To eat of such good things as these are,

I'm shure you've but seldom the luck;

Besides for to make us some pottage,

There'll be a sheep's head and pluck.

Blind Willy's to play on the fiddle.

Of sausages there will be plenty,

Black puddings, sheep fat, and neats' tripes;

Besides, for to warm all your noses,

Great store of tobacco and pipes.

A room, they say, there is provided

For us at 'The Old Jacob's Well;'

The bridegroom he went there this morning,

And spoke for a barrel o' yell.

Blind Willy's to play on the fiddle.

There's sure to be those things I've mention'd,

And many things else; and I learn,

There's white bread and butter and sugar,

To please every bonny young bairn.

Of each dish and glass you'll be welcome

To eat and to drink till you stare;

I've told you what meat's to be at it,

I'll next tell you who's to be there.

Blind Willy's to play on the fiddle.

Why there will be Peter the hangman,

Who flogs the folks at the cart-tail,

Au'd Bob, with his new sark and ruffle,

Made out of an au'd keel sail!

And Tib on the Quay who sells oysters,

Whose mother oft strove to persuade

Her to keep from the lads, but she wouldn't,

Until she got by them betray'd.

Blind Willy's to play on the fiddle.

And there will be Sandy the cobbler,

Whose belly's as round as a keg,

And Doll, with her short petticoats,

To display her white stockings and leg;

And Sall, who, when snug in a corner,

A sixpence, they say, won't refuse;

She curs'd when her father was drown'd,

Because he had on his new shoes.

Blind Willy's to play on the fiddle.

And there will be Sam the quack doctor,

Of skill and profession he'll crack;

And Jack who would fain be a soldier,

But for a great hump on his back;

And Tom in the streets, for his living,

Who grinds razors, scissors, and knives;

And two or three merry old women,

That call "Mugs and doublers, wives!"

Blind Willy's to play on the fiddle.

But neighbours, I'd almost forgot,

For to tell ye—exactly at one,

The dinner will be on the table,

The music will play till it's done:

When you'll be all heartily welcome,

Of this merry feast for to share;

But if you won't come at this bidding,

Why then you may stay where you are.

Blind Willy's to play on the fiddle.