times I am a Cook,
And in _Fleet-Street_ I do dwell Sir:
At the sign of the Sugar-loaf,
As it is known full well Sir:
And if a dainty Lass comes by,
And wants a dainty bit Sir;
I take four Quarters in my Arms,
And put them on my Spit Sir.

In Weavering and in Fulling,
I have such passing Skill Sir;
And underneath my Weavering-Beam,
There stands a Fulling-Mill Sir:
To have good Wives displeasure,
I would be very loath Sir;
The Water runs so near my Hand,
It over-thicks my Cloath Sir.

Sometimes I am a Shoe-maker,
And work with silly Bones Sir:
To make my Leather soft and moist,
I use a pair of Stones Sir:
My Lasts for and my lasting Sticks,
Are fit for every size Sir;
I know the length of Lasses Feet,
By handling of their Thighs Sir.

The Tanner's Trade I practice,
Sometimes amongst the rest Sir;
Yet I could never get a Hair,
Of any Hide I dress'd Sir;
For I have been tanning of a Hide,
This long seven Years and more Sir;
And yet it is as hairy still,
As ever it was before Sir.

Sometimes I am a Taylor,
And work with Thread that's strong Sir;
I have a fine great Needle,
About two handfulls long Sir:
The finest Sempster in this Town,
That works by line or leisure;
May use my Needle at a pinch,
And do themselves great Pleasure.

_The slow Men of_ LONDON: _Or, the Widow_ BROWN. _To the same Tune._

There dwelt a Widow in this Town,
That was both Fair and Lovely;
Her Face was comely neat and brown,
To Pleasure she would move thee:
Her lovely Tresses shin'd like Gold,
Most neat is her Behaviour;
For truth it has of late been told,
There's many strove to have her.
There were three Young Men of this Town;
Slow Men of _London_;
And they'd go Wooe the Widow _Brown_,
Because they would be undone.

The one a Taylor was by Trade,
An excellent Occupation;
But Widows Love doth waste and fade,
I find by observation:
The second was a Farrier bold,
A Man of excellent Metal;
His Love to her was never cold,
So firm his Thoughts did settle,
There were, _&c._

The third a Weaver was that came,
a Suitor to this Widow;
Her Beauty did his Heart inflame,
Her Thoughts deceit doth shadow,
Widows can dissemble still,
When Young Men come a Wooing;
Yet they were guided by her Will,
That prov'd to their undoing.
There were three, _&c._