Will Wood's Petition To The People Of Ireland

BEING AN EXCELLENT NEW SONG, SUPPOSED TO BE MADE, AND SUNG IN THE STREETS OF DUBLIN, BY WILLIAM WOOD, IRONMONGER AND HALFPENNY-MONGER. 1725             My dear Irish folks,             Come leave off your jokes,     And buy up my halfpence so fine;             So fair and so bright             They'll give you delight;     Observe how they glisten and shine!             They'll sell to my grief             As cheap as neck-beef,     For counters at cards to your wife;             And every day             Your children may play     Span-farthing or toss on the knife.             Come hither and try,             I'll teach you to buy     A pot of good ale for a farthing;             Come, threepence a score,             I ask you no more,     And a fig for the Drapier and Harding.[1]             When tradesmen have gold,             The thief will be bold,     By day and by night for to rob him:             My copper is such,             No robber will touch,     And so you may daintily bob him.             The little blackguard             Who gets very hard     His halfpence for cleaning your shoes:             When his pockets are cramm'd             With mine, and be d - d,     He may swear he has nothing to lose.             Here's halfpence in plenty,             For one you'll have twenty,     Though thousands are not worth a pudden.             Your neighbours will think,             When your pocket cries chink.     You are grown plaguy rich on a sudden.             You will be my thankers,             I'll make you my bankers,     As good as Ben Burton or Fade;[2]             For nothing shall pass             But my pretty brass,     And then you'll be all of a trade.             I'm a son of a whore             If I have a word more     To say in this wretched condition.             If my coin will not pass,             I must die like an ass;     And so I conclude my petition.