| there's no pure rube like an ool pool roober when your pullar | 1 |
| beer turns out Bruin O'Luinn and beat his barge into a battering | 2 |
| pram with her wattling way for cubblin and, be me fairy fay, sayd | 3 |
| he, the marriage mixter, to Kersse, Son of Joe Ashe, her coax- | 4 |
| fonder, wiry eyes and winky hair, timkin abeat your Andraws | 5 |
| Meltons and his lovsang of the short and shifty, I will turn my | 6 |
| thinks to things alove and I will speak but threes ones, sayd he, | 7 |
| my truest patrions good founter, poles a port and zones asunder, | 8 |
| tie up in hates and repeat at luxure, you can better your tooblue | 9 |
| prodestind arson, tyler bach, after roundsabouts and donochs and | 10 |
| the volumed smoke, though the clonk in his stumble strikes warn, | 11 |
| and were he laid out on that counter there like a Slavocrates | 12 |
| amongst his skippies, when it comes to the ride onerable, sayd he, | 13 |
| that's to make plain Nanny Ni Sheeres a full Dinamarqueza, and | 14 |
| all needed for the lay, from the hursey on the montey with the | 15 |
| room in herberge down to forkpiece and bucklecatch, (Elding, | 16 |
| my elding! and Lif, my lif!) in the pravacy of the pirmanocturne, | 17 |
| hap, sayd he, at that meet hour of night, and hop, sayd he, and the | 18 |
| fyrsty annas everso thried (whiles the breath of Huppy Hulles- | 19 |
| pond swumped in his seachest for to renumber all the mallyme- | 20 |
| dears' long roll and call of sweetheart emmas that every had a | 21 |
| port in from Coxenhagen till the brottels on the Nile), while | 22 |
| taylight is yet slipping under their pillow, (ill omens on Kitty | 23 |
| Cole if she's spilling laddy's measure!) and before Sing Mattins in | 24 |
| the Fields, ringsengd ringsengd, bings Heri the Concorant Erho, | 25 |
| and the Referinn Fuchs Gutmann gives us I'll Bell the Welled or | 26 |
| The Steeplepoy's Revanger and all Thingavalley knows for its | 27 |
| never dawn in the dark but the deed comes to life, and raptist bride | 28 |
| is aptist breed (tha lassy! tha lassy!), and, to buoy the hoop | 29 |
| within us springing, 'tis no timbertar she'll have then in her arms- | 30 |
| brace to doll the dallydandle, our fiery quean, upon the night of | 31 |
| the things of the night of the making to stand up the double | 32 |
| tet of the oversear of the seize who cometh from the mighty | 33 |
| deep and on the night of making Horuse to crihumph over his | 34 |
| enemy, be the help of me cope as so pluse the riches of the roed- | 35 |
| shields, with Elizabeliza blessing the bedpain, at the willbedone | 36 |