Through streets and squares, wherever he pass'd,
Folks wonder'd at seeing him walk so fast;
He clung to a lamp-post in his alarms.
But his leg proved stronger than both his arms.
Ri-too-ral-loo-ral, &c.
On—on he went,—he knew not where,
Till night brought on a dark despair;
A robber, meeting him in a wood,
Cried Stop!—said he, I wish I could!
Ri-too-ral-loo-ral, &c.
For home and friends he began to pine.
He thought of his dinner and bottle of wine,
But instead of drawing the cork, 'twould seem,
The cork was bent on drawing of him.
Ri-too-ral-loo-ral, &c.
He had nought to drink but of misery's cup,
And from not lying down he was soon knock'd up;
His strength it decay'd, he grew faint and ill,
He died—but his leg kept walking on still.
Ri-too-ral-loo-ral, &c.
He left no will! 'tis very well known
His leg never left him a will of his own;
Yet no man e'er died by land or by sea
Who left behind such a leg as he.
Ri-too-ral-loo-ral, &c.
