Summer Fête, The - Song 1

Who 'll buy? — 't is Folly's shop, who 'll buy? —
We've toys to suit all ranks and ages;
Besides our usual fools' supply,
We 've lots of playthings, too, for sages.
For reasoners here 's a juggler's cup
That fullest seems when nothing 's in it;
And nine-pins set, like systems, up,
To be knocked down the following minute
Who 'll buy? — 't is Folly's shop, who 'll buy?

Gay caps we here of foolscap make,
For bards to wear in dog-day weather;
Or bards the bells alone may take,
And leave to wits the cap and feather,
Tetotums we' ve for patriots got,
Who court the mob with antics humble;
Like theirs the patriot's dizzy lot,
A glorious spin, and then — a tumble,
Who 'll buy, etc.

Here, wealthy misers to inter,
We' ve shrouds of neat post-obit paper;
While, for their heirs, we 've quick silver,
That, fast as they can wish, will caper.
For aldermen we 've dials true,
That tell no hour but that of dinner;
For courtly parsons sermons new,
That suit alike both saint and sinner.
Who 'll buy, etc.

No time we 've now to name our terms,
But, whatsoe'er the whims that seize you,
This oldest of all mortal firms,
Folly and Co., will try to please you.
Or, should you wish a darker hue
Of goods than we can recommend you,
Why then (as we with lawyers do)
To Knavery's shop next door we' ll send you.
Who 'll buy, etc.
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