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Tune—“The Wedding Day.”

Isaac lives in a cottage near the road side,
He envies not Princes or Kings,
Unacquainted with splendor no lover of pride,
He says it oft poverty brings.

Trudges all day with his plough void of care,
At eve to the village he flies,
In hopes a good ditty or story to hear;
For those all his wishes supplies.

Sometimes his noddle so dizzy is grown,
That he cannot exact his path find;
Yet Isaac is nettled whenever tis known,
Slaves to old Bacchus go blind.

True friendship he loves and friendly to all,
That dame fortune e’er send to his door;
With a glass of strong ale welcome them all,
Tho’ it be from the labouring poor.

His wife is at all times as anxious to send,
Her boon were distress points the way;
To the needy she is daily a friend,
Her efforts oft poverty stay.

They trudge on united unblemished by art,
She delights in the dairy and cow;
From the first dawn of morn till phoebus depart,
While Isaac’s engaged with the plough.

No worthier couple dwell far around,
Good nature in them can be seen;
In their happy retreat mirth wide abound,
Unknown to ill nature or spleen.

May Isaac and many that live near the town,
This Christmas most cheerfully meet;
To chat o’er a glass at the Falcon or Crown,
Join’d by others that at dwell in the street.

Both Landlords endeavour strangers to please,
By keeping of liquors the best;
With very soft beds that you may lay at ease,
When disposed to adjourn for to rest.

At Pulham Market, this motto remain,
Let us always be merry thro’ life,
Drink success to our King again and again,
To banish dull care pain and strife.