The canting academy, or, The devils cabinet opened wherein is shewn the mysterious and villanous practices of that wicked crew, commonly known by the names of hectors, trapanners, gilts, &c. : to which is added a compleat canting-dictionary, both of old words, and such as are now most in use : with several new catches and songs, compos'd by the choisest wits of the age ...
Head, Richard, 1637?-1686?

4. Canting Song.

The Rogues delight in praise of his Stroling Mort.

DOxy oh! Thy Glaziers shine
As Glymmar by the Salomon,
No Gentry Mort hath prats like thine
No Cove e're wap'd with such a one.
White thy fambles, red thy gan,
And thy quartons dainty is,
Couch a hogshead with me than,
In the Darkmans clip and kiss.
What though I no Togeman wear,
Nor Commission, Mish, or slate,
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Store of strummel wee'l have here.
And i'th' Skipper lib in state.
Wapping thou I know dost love,
Else the Ruffin cly thee Mort,
From thy stampers then remove
Thy Drawers and let's prig in sport.
When the Lightmans up do's call
Margery Prater from her nest,
And her Cackling cheats with all
In a Boozing-Ken wee'l feast.
There if Lour we want I'l mill
A Gage or nip for thee a bung,
Rum booz thou shalt booz thy fill
And crash a Grunting cheat that's young.
Bing awast to Rome-vile then
O my dimber wapping Dell,
Wee'l heave a booth and dock agen
Then trining scape and all is well.
The English thereof.
MY honey Chuck, byth' Mass I swear,
Thine eyes do shine than fire more clear,
No silken Girl hath thighs like thine,
No Doe was ever buck'd like mine.
Thy hand is white and red thy lip,
Thy dainty body I will clip,
Let's down to sleep our selves then lay,
Hug in the dark and kiss and play.
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What though I no cloak do wear
And neither Shirt or Sheet do bear,
Yet straw wee'l have enough that's sweet
And tumble when i'th' Barn we meet.
What thy Grandam lov'd do'st thou,
The Devil take thee else I vow.
Off then with thy stockings and shooes
And let us do what others use.
When the morning up shall call
From her nest the Hen and all
Her tender Broodlings thou and I,
Will to the Ale-House swiftly fly.
If we can't our reck'ning pay
Somthing I'l filch and steal away,
Drink off thy liquor then thy fill,
Some suckling Pig for thee I'l kill.
7. Therefore to London let us hie
O thou my sweet bewitching eye,
There wee'l rob and kiss pell-mell,
Escaping Tyburn all is well.

Lastly, The most ill-shapen ill-look'd Rogue in the whole Company, sung as followeth.

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