SUNG
63 lines✦
Illustration] Good people all, of every sort,Give ear unto my song;And if you find it wondrous short,It cannot hold you long. [Illustration][Illustration][Illustration] In Islington there lived a man,Of whom the world might say,That still a godly race he ran,Whene'er he went to pray. [Illustration][Illustration][Illustration][Illustration] A kind and gentle heart he had,To comfort friends and foes;The naked every day he clad,When he put on his clothes [Illustration][Illustration][Illustration][Illustration] And in that town a dog was found:As many dogs there be--Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound,And curs of low degree. [Illustration][Illustration][Illustration] This dog and man at first were friends;But, when a pique began,The dog, to gain some private ends,Went mad, and bit the man. [Illustration][Illustration][Illustration][Illustration] Around from all the neighbouring streetsThe wondering neighbours ran;And swore the dog had lost his wits,To bite so good a man. [Illustration][Illustration][Illustration][Illustration][Illustration][Illustration] The wound it seem'd both sore and sadTo every christian eye;And while they swore the dog was mad,They swore the man would die [Illustration][Illustration][Illustration] But soon a wonder came to light,That show'd the rogues they lied--The man recover'd of the bite;The dog it was that died. [Illustration][Illustration][Illustration]
✦