The London lasses Hue-and-Cry After Her Dear Beloved Robin, Whom she unluckily lost last Saturday Night.  
To the Tune of the Rant.  
Licenced according to Order.  
 
 

GOod People pray give your Attention,  
Unto this my new Hue-and-cry,  
'tis after my Love, and I'll mention  
his Form, and Apparel, for why,   

Without him I can't be contented,  
he is the Sole-joy of my life,  
For him I have went, and lamented,  
I fear I shall ne'er be a Wife.   

O he is my joy, love and honey,  
I lost ●im last Saturday night,  
I'd give twenty Shillings in Money  
to those that bring him to light.   

He has I must tell ye, two Faces,  
his head it stands quite all awry,  
He Amb'●s and h●th all his Paces,  
likewise he is seven hands high.   
 
 

YOu'll say that there is not a sweeter  
young man in the Kingdom than he,  
I now will describe ev'ry Feature,  
if that you will listen to me.   

His Skin is as fair as tanned Leather,  
likewise his sweet Face to adorn,  
His Nose and his Hat meets together  
turned up like a Sow-gelders-Ho●n.   

His Teeth they are black, green and yellow,  
those changeable Colours are fine,  
And like to the fair Crimson ●allow,  
his Cheeks too with Beauty does thine.   

His pretty sweet Mouth I admire,  
which froths like a Tankard of Purt,  
The hair of his Head like soft Wire,  
you'll find than of ●aggot-stick Curl,   

His pretty sweet Eyes like two Saweers,  
his wounded my heart now I see,  
His Ears they stand out like two ●aw●ers,  
a pretty sweet Creature is he.   

Now having described his Beauty,  
his Body must no ways escape,  
For here I account it my Duty,  
is tell ye his delicate shape.   

I think in the waste he is smaller  
than the largest ● of a Drum,  
Besides I am sure he is taller  
by the head, than honest Tom Thumb.   

O he ●s a most delicate Og●re,  
his Hips they do stand out behind  
As broad as a Bushel and bigger,  
would I this sweet Creature could find.   

Some Uillains his death has contrected,  
〈◊〉 he'd not have left me I'm sure,  
I shall go quite mad and distracted,  
this loss I can never endure.   

Look after my love Friends and mind him.  
his Age is about twenty five,  
A Guinay I'll gi●e those that find him,  
and bring him now dead or alive.   

Perhaps they have pressed my sweet jewel,  
to give him as ●●●rers place,  
But sure they would ne'er be so cruel,  
to take such a pretty sweet f●ce.   

Goods People with pity be filled ●o,  
and seek 〈◊〉 all with one accord,  
Then come to the sign of the Dildoe,  
and there you shall have your Reward.    

Printed for P. Brooksby, I. Deacon, I. Blare, and ●. Yack.