A Craver my Father, a Maunder my Mother, [1]
A Filer my Sister, a Filcher my Brother,
A Canter my Uncle, that car'd not for Pelf,
A Lifter my Aunt, and a Beggar myself;
In white wheaten Straw, when their Bellies were full,
Then was I got between a Tinker and a Trull.
And therefore a Beggar, a Beggar I'll be,
For there's none lives a Life more jocund than he