For t'folk in its path, it brought terror an' pain,
But for t'rest it med compulsive viewin'

When it reached Holborn Bridge after dinner,
Three score taverns an' inns were destroyed.
Gang o' lads on t'pub ride out from Blegburn,
Were to put it politely "annoyed".

Eighty seven owd churches 'ad perished,
But t'lads were more worried o'er t'pubs.
Panic reigned when they 'eard that St Paul's were ablaze,
'Cause they thought it were t'workin' men's club.

When they found it were just a cathedral,
Not one of 'em uttered a sob.
"There's allus a bright side" said t'driver,
"It's gi' Christopher Wren a fresh job!"

T'Royal Exchange were consumed by the flames,
And t'Guildhall were rendered t'ash.
King Charles watched uncomfortably out on 'is barge,
'Cause th'eat brought 'im out in a rash.

On a patch o' spare land, green, amidst all the flames,
An oasis where refugees fled.
Isaac Newton sat studyin' under a tree,
  When a "Scotch Bridget" fell on 'is 'ead.

Isaac jumped to 'is feet howlin', "What's going on?"
Grasping t'gravity of 'is situation.
"London towns been ablaze while you've sat on your bum,"
Said a young lass wi' some consternation.

"I'm movin' from London, but know not yet where"
She said, soundin' just a bit vague.
"Alas my dear 'usband is lost unto t'flames,
An' I lost one last year down to t'plague."

"Don't despair," whispered Isaac to t'woman.
"You can mek a fresh start in this town,
And regarding your 'usband who went up in flames,
Theres a law, what goes up must come down!"

From th'onset o' "t'Great Conflagration",
Which burned for four days 'fore it broke.
A new London town rose fray th'ashes,
That's why cockneys all call it "the smoke".

Over one hunderd thousand were 'omeless,
Wand'rin streets that were filthy an' grey.
Sleepin' rough, wi' some beggin' on t'corners.
In fact just like the place is today!

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