Volume 5 — A Song. The Words made to a Tune of the late Mr. Henry Purcell’s.
Reading edition
[Listen]
DRUNK I was last Night that’s poss, My Wife began to Scold; Say what I cou’d for my Heart’s Blood, Her Clack she wou’d not hold: Thus her Chat she did begin, Is this your time of coming in; The Clock strikes One, you’ll be undone, If thus you lead your Life: My Dear said I, I can’t deny, But what you say is true; I do intend, my Life to mend, Pray lends the Pot to Spew. Fye, you Sot, I ne’er can bear, To rise thus e’ery Night; Tho’ like a Beast you never care, What consequence comes by’t: The Child and I may starve for you, We neither can have half our due; With grief I find, you’re so unkind, In time you’ll break my Heart: At that I smil’d, and said dear Child, I believe your in the wrong; But if’t shou’d be you’re destiny, I’ll sing a merry Song.
