A Comely Dame of _Islington_, Had got a leaky Copper; The Hole that let the Liquor run, Was wanting of a Stopper: A Jolly _Tinker_ undertook, And promised her most fairly; With a thump thump thump, and knick knack knock, To do her Business rarely. He turn'd the Vessel to the Ground, Says he a good old Copper; But well may't Leak, for I have found A Hole in't that's a whopper: But never doubt a _Tinkers_ stroke, Altho' he's black and surly, With a thump thump thump, _&c._ He'll do your Business purely. The Man of Mettle open'd wide, His Budget's mouth to please her, Says he this Tool we oft employ'd, About such Jobbs as these are: With that the Jolly _Tinker_ took, A Stroke or two most kindly; With a thump thump thump, _&c._ He did her Business finely. As soon as Crock had done the Feat, He cry'd 'tis very hot ho; This thrifty Labour makes me Sweat, Here, gi's a cooling Pot ho: Says she bestow the other Stroke, Before you take your Farewel; With a thump thump thump, _&c._ And you may drink a Barrel. _A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ JOHN ABELL. I'll press, I'll bless thee Charming fair, Thou Darling of my Heart; I'll press, I'll bless thee Charming fair, Thou darling of my Heart: I'll clasp, I'll grasp thee close my Dear, And Doat on every Part. I'll clasp, I'll grasp thee close my Dear, And Doat on every Part! I'll bless thee now thou Darling, Thou Darling of my Heart; I'll bless thee now, _&c._ With fond excess of Pleasure, I'll make the Panting cry, Panting cry; Then wisely use your Treasure, Then wisely use your Treasure, Refusing, still comply. _A_ SONG. [Music] What shall I do, I've lost my Heart, 'Tis gone, 'tis gone I know not whither; Love cut its strings, Then lent it Wings And both are flown together: Fair Ladies tell for Love's sweet sake, Did any of you find it? Come, come it lies, In your Lips or Eyes, Tho' you'll not please to mind it. But if't be lost, Then farewel Frost, I will enquire no more; For Ladies they Steal Hearts away, But only to restore: _For Ladies they_, &c. Tune, _si votr' epousa_. _Chloris_ can you Forgive the fault that I have done; _Chloris_ can you Forgive me when I sue, Faith it is true, That had you let me farther gone, I had ruin'd you, And mischiev'd my self too: Yet I ne'er should Have ventur'd on a Maid so Chast, Had not your Eye, Shot thro' my Soul, And conjur'd all the Sense away, That there did lye. _Lumps of_ PUDDING. [Music] When I was in the low Country, When I was in the low Country; What slices of Pudding and pieces of Bread, My Mother gave me when I was in need.