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‹‹‹ prev (161) Page 143Page 143My friend and pitcher

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(162) Page 144 - Midnight
144 TffE SKY-LARK.
From morning sun I'd never grieve,
To toil a hedger or a ditcher,
If that, when I come home at eve,
I might enjoy my friend and pitcher.
My friend so rare, &c.
Tho' fortune ever shuns my door,
I know not what can bewitch her,
With all my heart can I be poor.
With my sweet girl, my friend and pitcher.
My friend so rare, &c*
GLEE.— MIDNIGHT.
The thieves are on the prowl, love,
The cats are on the howl, love,
And couples, cheek by jowl, love,
Are padding through the street, love.
Watchmen are on the dose, love,
And goblins now have rose, love,
And the night cart now throws, love,
A stinking stench, my sweet love.

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