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4?. Young Beichan
(Another version of the foregoing}
I N London was Young Beichan born, He long'd strange countries for to see ; But he was ta'en by a savage Moor Who handled him right cruellie.
II For he view'd the fashions of that land,
Their way of worship viewed he ; But to Mahound or Termagant
Would Beichan never bend a knee.
in So thro' every shoulder they've bored a bore,
And thro' every bore they've putten a tree, And they have made him trail the wine
And spices on his fair bodie.
They've casten him in a dungeon deep, Where lie could neither hear nor see ;
And fed him on nought but bread and water Till he for hunger s like to die.
v This Moor he had but ae daughter,
Her name was called Susie Pye, And every day as she took the air
She heard Young Beichan sadly crie:
' My hounds they all run masterless, My hawks they flie from tree to tree,
My youngest brother will heir my lands ; Fair England again I'll never see !