Broadside entitled 'Verses on the Report of the Morbus entering Glasgow'

Transcription

Verses on the Report of the [ ]
Morbus entering Glasgow,
[   ]at the times are dull and dreary,   
every thing goes topsey tear,            
travelling night and day I'm Weary,
Through the streets of Glasgow;
Sometimes I stop and take a view   
Of what folk say, and what they do,
I always find out something new,         
        In this great town of Glasgow,

The big folk they join'd in a league,
They'd not allow Sawney nor Teague;
To rear a Swine for fear a plague
        They would bring into Glasgow,

But now the swine are done away,
And on the poor the blame they lay,
They're sending some of them each day,
        From this great town of Glasgow.

The rich do pray with eyes upcast,
The poor do hold a general fast,
I hope they've stopt the plague at last,
        From coming into Glasgow,

Now the Cholera is the cry,
We'll not get leave to sell or bye,
Poor dealers may with hunger die,
        In this great town of Glasgow.

They've put a stop to all Pawnbrokers,
Bone-Gatherers and Midden-rakers,
Sellars of Salt and Candy Hawkers,
        In this great town of Glasgow :

Chaunters they now all dormant ly,
Speech-criers won't get leave to cry,
For if they do they'll walk up by,
        To that big home in Glasgow.

No fish but oysters they dare sell.
The big folk cannot want them well,
The laws are strict, so don't rebel,
        In this great town of Glasgow,

The lame, the lazy, and the blind,
And ragged folk that they can find,
A begging through a street or wynd,
        Are taken up in Glasgow.

Ye lasses put on mourning dresses,
Weep and wail at our distresses,
You'll not meet with such fond caresses,
        This some time in Glasgow,

Its for Reform you did shout,
A quare way it has come about,
I Wish it ta'eh some other rout,
        And never entered Glasgow.

Before that I do end my ditty,
Ye great folk that do rule this city,
On the poor pray do take pity
          In this great, town of Glasgow,

Hunger will shortly end our days,
It will kill more than that disease,
Of which they did such rumours raise,
        In this great town of Glasgow.

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