Free Trade

CUNE—"Dash Along."

COME all good people far and near, & listen
unto me,

The time is drawing on a pace when you may
have a spree;

The Publicans are in a mess, they know not
what to do,

And at their doors I must confess, they look
most d— blue.

CHORUS.

Their sour swipes, I do declare, may quickly
go to pot,

We may get good Beer in Coblers' stalls, and
Ale in Taylors' shops.

I heard a Landlord say last night, this will be
my undoing,

This new Beer Act, it is a fact, will drive us
all to ruin,

As the people passes by my door, they do upon
meROWN,

And my wife I'm sure will never more put on
a new silk gown.

Free trade in Beer, I do declare, the Publicans
will feel,

Both night and day they will ever pray for
W— and P—,

Now one and all, where'er you be, that's fond
of heavy wet,

In Coblers' stalls a pot of Beer, for Three
Pence you will get.

The working man when he leaves work, and
homeward he does steer,

In a Cobler's stall may just call in and get a
pint of Beer;

And when at home he does arrive, its true upon
my life,

He may enjoy a pot of Beer all with his loving
wife.

The Tradesman to the Landlords say, what
makes you look so queer?

Because, says he, it will ruin me, will this Free
Trade n Beer,

Always to my customers, I did behave quite civil

And this Beer Act, it is a fact, I wish was at
the devil.

So to conclude and end my song, I hope you'll
not find fault,

And we have before its long, they'll take the
duty off—Malt;

in Beer!

Then we may have a pot of Beer, and we may
sit and sing,

Here's a health to William, "Long live our
gracious King!"

CHORUS.

Then all who wish may sit & sing, and never
more be sober.

Free Trade in Beer, we all shall see, the tenth
day of October.

A NEW SONG.

COME list awhile unto my song now,
And I will not detain you long now,

They're all rejoicing o'er the Nation,
On account of this fam'd alteration;

Some are smiling—some are laughing—

And some the Landlords are a chaffing;

It surely will prove their undoing,

And drive the Landlords all to ruin.

CHORUS.

We'll drink and sing, and ne'er be sober,
On the glorious Tenth day of October.

In Town and Country, I declare sir,

Those Publicans look mighty queer sir,

To the people they must now be civil,

They wish the Beer Act at the Devil;

Their swipes may lay until 'tis stale,

In Coblers' stalls you may buy Ale,

In Tailors' shops you'll get good Beer, sir,

While the Publicans sing, "Dear, Oh! dear sir."

Now all poor men with heart and voice, Sir,

On that day will all rejoice, Sir,

The Quality looks very fine, now,

They can't be always drinking Wine now;

They say poor men will not be sober,

After the tenth day of October;

They will to Coblers' stalls be flocking,

Oh ! dear, oh ! dear, it will be shocking.

In Tailors shops they may be seen now,

Drinking a health to the King and Queen now

They'll sit and drink while they've got money,

Until they all get very funny;

Now times are altered there are many,

Will sell strong Beer, a pint, a penny

The Landlords such a yarn are spinning,

And like Old Nick they are all a grinning,

CHORUS.

You all must own, it would be no fault, sir,

To take the Duty off the Malt, sir,

Printed by T. BIRT, No. Great St. Andrew Street, Seven Dials