Miraculous Well; or, Newcastle Spaw Water

A fig for quack doctors, their pills and their stuff,
Our neighbours of them have been tir'd long enough;
E'en Dinsdale and Croft their pretensions withdraw,
And Harrowgate bends to our Newcassel Spaw:
The halt and the blind, and the grave and the gay,
To drink of the water, in crowds haste away;
And gouty old bachelors thither repair,
With Jews, Turks, and tailors, its virtues to share.

Hurrah for Newcassel!--Newcassel for me!
Where ale is so prime, and the lasses so free:
Your lumps, bumps, and rheumatics vanish like snaw,
By one mighty draught of this wonderful Spaw!

One day Cuddy Willy sat down by the spring,
And fiddled and sang till he made the Dean ring;
Then said to the crowd--My lads, as to the Spaw,
Good whisky improves it, aw verra weel knaw!--
But, if you'll be seated, you'll soon hear me sing
The magical cures that's performed by this spring:--
He cut an odd caper, and thus he began--
First drinking a quart from a rusty tin-can.
Hurrah for Newcassel! &c.

Awd Humpy-back'd Dick, and two or three mair,
Fra Shiney Raw pit to the Well did repair;
He drank of the Spaw, when the hump, in a crack,
Dissolv'd and soon vanish'd frae poor Dicky's back!
Lord bliss us! cried timber-toed tee-total Peg,
If it banishes humps, it might bring forth a leg!
She got to the Well, with the Spaw she made free,
And very soon after poor Peggy had three!!!
Hurrah for Newcassel! &c.

Pure sanctified Betty scarce knew what to think--
Hard might be her fate if she ventur'd to drink--
For most of the lasses that live in Lang Raw,
Have getten the dropsy by tasting the Spaw!
The doctors declare, that at forty weeks' end,
'Twill be in their arms, and the dropsy will mend;
The howdies are wishing the time was well o'er,
For surely such water was ne'er known before.
Hurrah for Newcassel! &c.

A bumper, cried Cuddy, and toasted the Queen,--
Which soon was responded by all on the green,--
May she have a son soon as big's Johnny Fa'--
(There's virtue in wishing while drinking the Spaw).
So now, my good lasses, gan hyem to your wark--
There's danger in wand'ring the Dean in the dark
'Mang trees and awd quarries--I'd have ye beware,
Remember poor Peggy was caught in the snare.
Hurrah for Newcassel! &c.