Monday's Work. OR 
The two honest neighbours both birds of a feather  
Who are at the Alehouse both merry together.   
To the tune of, I owe my Hostess money.  
 

GOod morrow neighbour Gamble,  
Come let you and I go ramble,  
Last night I was shot  
Through the brains with a Pot,  
and now my stomach doth wamble:  
Your Possets and your Caudles,  
Are fit for babes in Cradles:  
A piece of salt Hogge,  
And a hair of the old Dog  
is good to cure our drunken Noddles.  
Come hither mine Host, come hither,  
Here's two birds of a feather,  
Come hither mine Host  
With a Pot and a Tost,  
and let us be merry together.   

I rose in the morning early,  
To take this juice of barley,  
But if my wife jone  
Know where I were gone,  
shéeed call me to a Parley▪  
My bones I do not favour,  
But honestly do labour:  
But when I am out.  
I must make a mad bout  
come here's half a pot to thee neighbour.  
Come hither, etc.   

Gramercy neighbour jinkin,  
I see thou lovest no shrinking,  
And I for my part,  
From thee will not start,  
come fill us a little more drink in.  
I'th' week we ask but one day,  
And that's next after Sunday,  
Our custom we'll hold,  
Although our Wife's scold,  
the Maltman comes a Monday.  
Come hither, etc.   

Come let's have our Liquor about us,  
Mine Host do not misdoubt us,  
Yet if we should call,  
And pay none at all,  
you were better be without us:  
But we are no such fellows,  
Though some in clothes excel us,  
And yet have no coin,  
For Liquor to join.  
yet we have both whites and yellows.  
Come hither, etc.   

We scorn those rooking Roarers,  
That are such common scorers,  
No coin they can spare,  
Because they are  
such Dicers and such Whorers.  
But we do hate such doing,  
we'll waste no means in wooing,  
Yet such as they be  
Make you think that we  
will not pay what is owing.  
Come hither mine Host, come hither,  
Here's two birds of a feather,  
Come hither mine Host  
With a pot and a Tost,  
and let us be merry together.   

The second Part.  
To the same Tune.  
 

COme ply your work my Masters,  
Let us not be time wasters,  
To work or to play  
Very hard (as some say)  
is a sign of good forecasters.  
Much prate to me is loathing  
To cumber the house for nothing,  
I hate a long tale,  
Give me some more Ale,  
which is meat, drink, and clothing,  
Come hither mine Host, come hither,  
Here's two birds of a feather,  
Come hither mine Host  
With a Pot and a Tost,  
and let us be merry together   

If wicked Will the Weaver,  
Or True the Tailor either,  
Were here with us now,  
To part we knew not how,  
till we were drunk together:  
Or Tom the neat Shoemaker,  
Or Kit the jovial Baker,  
If any one of these  
Come hither and sée's,  
with us he'll be a Partaker.  
Come hither mine Host, come hither,  
Here's two birds of a feather,  
Come hither mine Host  
With a Pot and a Tost,  
and let us be merry together.   

But sith there is no more here  
we'll say as we did before here,  
Between us weelè call,  
And pay for it all,  
for we scorn to go on the score here,  
Let's take off our Liquor roundly,  
And though we do drink sound,  
Our humour is such,  
we'll not drink so much,  
until we both on the ground lie.  
Come hither mine Host, come hither,  
Here's two birds of a feather,  
Come hither mine Host  
With a Pot and a Tost,  
and let us be merry together.   

Now lest our Wives should find us,  
'tis fit we should look behind us,  
Let's see what is done,  
Then pay and be gone.  
as honestly hath assigned us.  
'tis strong Ale I conceive it,  
'tis good in time to leave it,  
Or else it will make,  
Our foreheads to ache,  
'tis vanity to out brave it.  
Come hither mine Host, come hither  
Here's two birds of a feather,  
Come hither mine Host  
With a Pot and a Tost,  
and let us be merry together.    
FINIS.   

London Printed for F. Grove.