Transcription
Sunday
TRADING ! Ye gentlemen listen to my humble song,
And I will declare what I think to be wrong :
I now can see nothing but ill feeling made,
In this town by the fuss about Sabbath day trade. The landlord can sell his dear brandy and wine,
His gin, rum, and ale, to his dogs and his swine ;
While children are tied to observe these new rules,
The alehouse is open to all sorts of fools. The child must not taste either orange or bun,
On that very day we once worshipp'd the sun ;
But now things are alter'd, for all must stand still,
Except in the alehouse, the jug and the gill. If all must stand still on Saint Andrew's day,
Then Magistrates' servants should all go to pray ;
And not stop at home, to scour and to scrub,
Those steps at their doors, which 'tis sinful to rub. But if a poor child is observ'd in the street
To suck either toffy, or anything sweet,
We've our new policemen on parish book pay,
To see that a child has no sweet-meat that day. But now they can club all their pennies a-piece,
And fear neither parson nor rural police ;
They'll send to the alehouse for brandy and gin,
But this beastly custom you see is no sin. Our parents were fined when their offspring were born
And so are the merchants who bring foreign corn ;
And if we should taste either sugar or tea,
We then are all fined im a shameful degree. To shave on a Sunday, is now made a sin,
And therefore my beard must remain on my chin ;
They've made it a sin for a barber to poll
On this holy day, when the parson takes toll. But we must all work under physical laws,
And out down the corn when harvest wind blows ;
But barbers are fined for the shaving of boors,
While magistrates' servants are scrubbing the floors. The sun shines on Sundays, and all things go on,
For bad days, and good days, to nature are one ;
The horse must still work, and the parson have pay,
For jobs he performs on this sanctified day. The beer in the VAT must work itself clear,
And corn laws once work'd to make bread very dea
Yes, all things may work for the rich and the gay,
But sugar's too sweet for poor children they say. 640
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