When I was a Maiden fair, Such Sorrows I never knew; But now my Heart is full of Care, _I cannot_, &c. Oh what will become of me, My Belly's as big as two; 'Tis with a Two-legg'd Tympany, _I cannot tell what to do_. You Lasses that hear my Moan, If you will your Joys renew; Besure, while Married, lye alone, _Or else you at length may rue_. I came of as good a Race, As most is in _Lynn_'s fair Town; And cost a great deal bringing up, _But a little Thing laid me down_. _The Jovial Tinker._ [Music] There was a Jovial Tinker, Which was a good Ale drinker; He never was a Shrinker, Believe me this is true; And he came from the wild of _Kent_, When all his Money was gone and spent, Which made him look like a _Jack-a-Lent_, _And Joan's Ale is new,_ _And Joan's Ale is new Boys,_ _And Joan's Ale is new._ The Tinker he did settle, Most like a Man of Mettle, And vow'd to pawn his Kettle, Now mark what did ensue; His Neighbours they flock'd in apace, To see _Tom Tinker's_ comely Face, Where they drank soundly for a space, _Whilst_ Joan's _Ale_, &c. The Cobler and the Broom Man, Came next into the Room, Man, And said they would drink for boon Man, Let each one take his due; But when good Liquor they had found, They cast their Caps upon the Ground, And so the Tinker he drank round, _Whilst_ Joan's _Ale_, &c. The Rag-Man being weary, With the Burden he did carry, He swore he would be merry, And spend a Shilling or two; And he told his Hostess to her Face, The Chimney-corner was his Place, And he began to drink apace, _And_ Joan's _Ale_, &c. The Pedlar he drew nigher, For it was his desire, To throw the Rags i'th' Fire, And burn the bundle blue; So whilst they drank whole Flashes, And threw about the Glasses, The Rags were burnt to Ashes, _And_ Joan's _Ale_, &c. _The Second_ PART. And then came in a Hatter, To see what was the matter, He scorn'd to drink cold Water, Amongst that Jovial Crew; And like a Man of Courage stout, He took the Quart-Pot by the Snout, And never left till all was out, _O_ Joan's _Ale_, &c. The Taylor being nimble, With Bodkin, Shears and Thimble, He did no whit dissemble, I think his name was _True_; He said that he was like to choak, And he call'd so fast for Lap and Smoak, Until he had pawn'd the Vinegar Cloak, _For_ Joan's _Ale_, &c. Then came a pitiful Porter, Which often did resort there, Quoth he, I'll shew some Sport here, Amongst the Jovial Crew; The Porter he had very bad luck, Before that it was ten a Clock, The Fool got Drunk, and lost his Frock, _For_ Joan's _Ale_, &c. The bonny brave Shoe-maker, A brave Tobacco taker, He scorn'd to be a Quaker, I think his Name was _Hugh_; He call'd for Liquor in so fast, Till he forgot his Awl and Last, And up the Reckoning he did cast, _Whilst_ Joan's _Ale_, &c.