There's your lords and ladies fine,
Riding in a coach and six,
Nothing to drink but claret wine,
Talking politicks.
London is a dainty place,A great and gallant city!
All the streets are paved with gold,
And all the folks are witty.
There's your beaux with powder'd clothes,
Bedaub'd from head to chin,
Their pocket-holes adorned with gold,but not one sou within.
There's your lords and ladies fine,
Riding in a coach and six,
Nothing to drink but claret wine,
Talking politicks.
There your English actor goes
With many a hungry belly;
While heaps of gold are forc'd, God wot,on Signor Farinelli.
There's your lords and ladies fine,
Riding in a coach and six,
Nothing to drink but claret wine,
Talking politicks.
London is a dainty place,A great and gallant city!
All the streets are paved with gold,
All the folks are witty.
There's your dames with dainty frames,
Skins as white as milk;
Dressed every day in garments gay,
Of satin and of silk.
London is a dainty place.
|