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There is some of your friends,
They think I have no means,
O they hate me because I am poor,
If I had great store of coin,
All your friends would me join,
They would make up all matters therefore.
Like David and his clan,
Banish'd from his native land,
Like Lazarus.I am hated too,
Which caused me to weep,
Ev'ry night when I should sleep,
O my darling still thinking on thee.
✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥
ROBIN A'BOON.
To its own Proper Tune.
MY name is Robin A'boon,
my age it is twenty and four,
I married last midsummer morn,
for the sake of a plentiful store:
My wife she's decripped and old,
and scarce has an eye for to fee,
But I knew he had plenty of gold,
or thed—l should have had her for me.
Though I be young, brawny and fat,
and Dolly my coinical bride,
Her locks are as grey as a rat,
and her nose it stands all on one side.
I stroak her old cheeks with my hand,
in few words we did agree,
