Street life > Sweet barley mow, or, Ragged and true

THE SWEET B A. R L E Y * M O W;
' OR,
-RAGGED and TRUE.
fWill fing you a fong of myi’elf,
and fo give the Devil his tins,
1 ne’er fhail be hanged for wealth.
and as for my clothes they’rfc but few.
My clothes a-re all gone without-doubt,
to the joys of the fweet Barley-Tuow,
My pence they’re worn down to nothing,
brave boys, tho’ I’m ragged I’m true.
My clothes are all fcratches and patches,
you may fee if you earnrjiiy look
My clothes ^re all Scratches and patches,
much like to a fajfe written book:
But fcratched and patched, -Eli wear it,
until l can paint it with new,'
For drinking i’ll challenge the nation,
braye boys, tho* I’m ragged, I’m true.
Come fill us a pot of good liquor,
we’ll drink to our creditors all;
We’ll pay them when times they grow better, 1
and landlords come at the firft call }
And if they will rake no denial,
but run like a hare in full view,
I-will give them the (tart upon trial,
brave boys, lho’ I’m ragged, I’m true.