THE OLD COMMODORE. OD'SBLOOD, what a time for a seaman to skulk What a dd bad job that this batter'd old hulk But the puppies, as they pass, I am left by my crew, and may I be flogged While I'm swallowing his slops Thus queering the old commodore. say, commodore- Have so knocked your hull about, That you'll never more be fit for sea. What, no more to be afloat? blood and fury! they lie! I'm a seaman, and only three score; As to death, it's all a joke, JRM A PLAGUE UPON PARSONS AND A PLAGUE upon parsons and preachers, For what, in 'od's name, can they teach us, In glasses, in girls, or in rhymes; If our crimes, too, make nobody grieve, On Harriet's soft bosom reposing, Can that shrine, which I bury my woes in, Be the font or the 'semblance of sin? While I doat on the glances of Nancy, No rules or logic I prize; If 'tis wisdom to reign in my fancy, Then drink away, &c. If 'tis crime to communicate pleasure, 'Then we've all of us sinned without measure, We feel there's a heaven above us, Then drink ........ away, &c. The laws he had broken, he'd never break more. His sea-boat was trim, made her port, took her lading, Then Will stood for home, reached her offing, and cried, This night, if I've luck, furls the sails of my trading, In dock I can lay, serve a friend, too, beside. Will lay-to till the night came on darksome and dreary, To crowd ev'ry sail then he piped up each hand; But a signal soon spied, 'twas a prospect uncheery, A signal that warned him to bear from the land. The Philistines are out, cries Will, well, take no heed on't, Attacked, who's the man that will flinch from his gun; Should my head be blown off, I shall ne'er fee. the need on't, We'll fight while we can, when we can't, boys we'll run. Through the haze of the night, a bright, flash now appearing, Oh no! cries Will Watch, the Philistines bear down, Bear-a-hand, my tight lads, e'er we think about sheering, One broadside pour in, should we swim, boys, or drown. But should I be popp'd off, you, my mates, left behind me, Regard my last words, see 'em kindly obeyed, Let no stone mark the spot, and, my friends, do you mind me, Near the beach is the grave where Will Watch would be laid. Poor Will's yarn was spun out-for a bullet next There's no such disease as he that doth please His palate with beer, for beer for to shame us; Tis claret that brings Madam Fancy her wings, And says musa majora canamus. Tol de rol, &c. Art thou weak, art thou lame, dost thou sigh after fame, Call for wie and thou quickly shall have it; It will make the lame rise, it will make the fool wise, Cui vim natura negavit. Tol de rol, &c. The more wine in my brain, the more merry my vein, And this to me wisdom and bliss is; For him that's too wise I greatly despise, Mecum confertur Ulysses! ..... Tol de rol, &c. MARY, I BELIEVED THEE TRUE. And I was blest in thus believing; Oh! I have loved thee too sincerely! Fare thee well! yet think awhile On one whose bosom bleeds to doubt thee; Who now would rather trust that smile, And die with thee than live without thee. Fare thee well! I'll think on thee, Thou leav'st me many a bitter token; Quite politely, quite politely, Walk in, kind sir, says she to me, My pockets soon I rummag'd o'er, Tol de rol, &c. Cautious ever, cautious ever, My pockets soon I rummag'd o'er, Tol de rol, &c. THE COUNTRY CLUB. Now we're all met here together, To moisten well our clay; Where's the waiter?-ring away!- And plenty of brown stout? Let the clerk all the names read out. SPOKEN.] Gentlemen of the Quizzical Society, please to answer to your names.-Farmer Scroggins? Why I be here.-Doctor Horseleach? Here. -Parson Paunch? Here.-Taylor Tit? Here.So he goes on for about twenty.) At last-you're here-are you all assembled? All, all, all, all. So, here's to you, Mr. Wiggins, Come, tell us what the news is, Of the times, what do people say? Indeed! well, and how goes the hay? The cause of all this pother and rout-- Are the rules of this society, Let the secretary read them out. SPOKEN.] Every member of this society that spills his liquor in his neighbour's pocket shall forfeit 2d.-Every member of this society that singes his neighbour's wig with his pipe shall forfeit 2d. Every member of this society that refuses to laugh at a good joke shall forfeit 2d.-Every member of this society who reproaches his neighbour with coming to distress by unavoidable misfortunes shall forfeit 2d.-Mr. President, I move that this forfeit be a shilling. And I second the motion. Are you all agreed? I am, unanimously.-A nobie resolution.-D'ye think so? Why, then, here's to you, &c. And now the potent liquor But to all their noddles mounts; Each his favourite tale recounts : While the company's lost in smoke. SPOKEN.] Upon my soul, neighbour, I had no hand in the death of your wife; it was all in the way of business. Nay, but doctor, 'twere a cursed unneighbourly thing of you; not that the woman were any sitch great things, but to put a body to sitch an expense.-Why, you don't tell me so! killed fifteen with your own hand? Fifteen, by my laurels! D'ye hear that, butcher? Hear it, yes; but I'll lay'im what he dares, he has not killed so many as I have by hundreds. Powder my whiskers, says the barber. Come, come, gentlemen, says the bellows-maker, no breezes. Let me exhort you to temperance, says the parson. Amen, says the clerk. That's right, says the undertaker, let us bury all animosities. That's what I like, says the fiddler, I like to see harmony restored. D'ye, though?-you like to see harmony restored! Why, then, here's to you, &c. May our smiles of love Cheer our lads so clever; And with whisky, boys, We'll drink King George for ever. A WEARY LOT IS THINE, FAIR MAID. (Walter Scott.) A WEARY lot is thine, fair maid, To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, A doublet of the Lincoln green,-- My love! This morn, merry June, I trow, But she shall bloom in winter snow, He gave his bridle-reins a shake, And adieu for evermore.' FARE THEE WELL. FARE thee well, and if for ever, 'Gainst thee can my heart rebel. Seared in heart, and lone, and blighted, More than this,-I scarce can die. Then if to do good you receive satisfaction, Since friendship's so rare and so bright a jewel, nappers, How sweet of two wives to hear the clappers! The drunken miser would double his treasure, With two sparks would Miss be to Scotland eloping, Parsons find two tithe-pigs, could we catch them a toping; The drunkard two bowls, as he's drinking and roaring; And if you were all drunk you'd my song be encoring. Then all get drunk, &c. ....... THE TYROLESE SONG OF LIBERTY. (Moore.) MERRILY every bosom boundeth, Merrily, oh! merrily, oh! Where the song of freedom soundeth, There the warrior's arms shed more splendour, Merrily, oh! merrily, oh! Wearily every bosom pineth, Wearily, oh! wearily, oh! Where the band of slavery twineth, Wearily, oh! wearily, oh! There the warrior's dart hath no feetness, There the maiden's heart hath no sweetness, Every flower of life declineth, Like your Wearily, oh! wearily, oh! Cheerily then from hill to valley, Cheerily, oh! cheerily, oh! native fountain sally, Cheerily, oh! cheerily oh! If a glorious death won by bravery Sweeter be than breath sighed in slavery, Round the flag of freedom rally, Cheerily, oh! cheerily, oh! Because he always cut his coat according to his cloth. But Paddy knew the feelings of a gentleman it hurts To find another ungenteely sticking in his skirts, So sent a challenge without fear, for though he wasn't rich, He call'd himself a gentleman, and still behaved as sich. Makirty, too, good manners had, for he, as it appears, To Paddy wrote for leave that he might cut off both his ears; Says Pat to that, in style polite, as you may well suppose, "My ears you're very welcome to, but first I'll pull your nose.' Then when and where were settled fair, when Pat, as bold as brass, Cried, "You know what we fight about?"→ Makirty cried, "Alas." And then in haste, and not to waste such very precious time, One primed without a loading, t'other loade without prime. Then back to back they stood, good lack, to mea. sure yards a score, Mackirkencroft such hon before; |