The Happy Beggar Man

Of all traders agoing, begging it is my delight;

My rent it is paid and I lay down my bags ev’ry night:

I’ll throw away care and take a long staff in my hand,

And I’ll flourish each day courageously looking for chance.

With my belt round my shoulder and down my bags they do hang;

With a push and a joult it’s quickly I’ll have them yoked on;

With my horn by my side, likewise my skiver and can;

With my staff and long pike to fight the dogs as I gang,

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