Three Flies, The

From Thomas Hudson's 1st Collection of Comic Songs (1818) 

THERE were three flies, once on a time,
Resolved to travel and change their clime,
For they neither cared for father nor mother,
For uncle nor aunt, nor sister, nor brother,
The first was a yellow one, the second was blue,
And the third was a green one to the view;
So off they set with merry hums,
And told their parents to kiss their bums,
                    
But they too saucy were by half;
I can't sing if you do laugh,
So shut your mouths, and list to me,
Tiddle liddle lol, and tiddle liddle lee,
And take a lesson from a fly,
Don't give way to lux—u—ry.

They had not got far when the yellow one cries,
Look down my boys, a dinner I spies;
But the blue-bottle answer'd—upon my word,
I sees nothing but a large cow t——d
A cow t——d? well, there's good in that;
I'm sure it looks monstratious fat;
And I wish as how I may go to Davy,
If I don't have some of that rich gravy,

Away then flew the other two,
Jacky Green and Tommy Blue ;
They flow'd on fast and did not stop,
'Till they came opposite to a butcher's shop,
" Oh, oh, says the blue-bottle, ' Here's a treat !
I'm particularly fond of butcher's meat,"
Says t'other, says he " Then off I go,
For I don't care for meat, you know.,

Far off then by himself he flow'd,
And into a grocer's shop he goed ;
And there he play'd some saucy rigs,           
For he danc'd among the sugar, and the plums, and the figs,
The day being hot, he took a whim,
And thought in some treacle he should like to swim;
So without considering consequences, in he goes,
And did'nt even stop to take off his clothes,
But the treacle he found too thick by half
 
The other two pass'd by the door,
And heard a voice they'd heard before ;
So nearer to the sound they got,
'Till they lighted on the treacle pot,
There they saw him almost dead,
And thus to him the blue-bottle said,
O Greeny, all our powers can't save ye,
You'd better have had our beef and gravy,

But you too dainty was by half, &c.
                      
MORAL.
Now all young men inclined to roam,
Take my advice, and stay at home ;
And be your fortunes dry or wet,
Be content with what you get,
And 'bout trifles make no fuss,
Farther on you may fare worse,
And mayhap when a great way off you've got,
Like that poor fly you'll go to pot.