Now, once again the banquet calls: Drink, pretty creature
The praises of tea, let the burden resound.
Let those who prefer it have plain bread and butter;
For _me_, lads, I warrant the _toast_ shall go round.
Dull knaves who delight in the worship of BACCHUS
May jeer at our joys in their pestilent way.
Pert fools that love Sherris perchance may attack us;
What boots it, my bully boys? Drink and be gay.
Adzooks, let the braggarts go sleep in the gutter;
Carouse ye, so long as Bohea can be found;
Let those who prefer it have plain bread and butter:
For _me_ lads, I warrant the toast shall go t round.
Odsbodikins! Tea is the soul and the sinew
Of all the gay gallants that fight for the king;
Long, long on the throne may our monarch continue,
To laugh at the French and bid rebels go swing.
Drink, drink to our flag, boys; for ages shall flutter
In glory and honour that standard renown'd.
Let those who prefer it have plain bread and butter;
For me, lads, I warrant the toast shall go round.
THE sun drops down in the deep, deep west
And the moon springs rapidly up from rest
Like the men and the beasts in a Noah's ark
That it leaves Mankind like a doll that sleeps
Ah! would that never the stars might shine--
Upon lids less innocent, love, than thine
Many sentiments thrill me whenever I gaze
Through a letter of recommendation that's sign'd
You have merely to put a friend out of the way,
To make yourself heartily welcome, they say,
There is lodging and board for the destitute poor,
And at evening they kindly make sure of your door,
Just in case you should walk in your sleep.
There's a medical man to attend on the guests,
The most laudable sentiments into their breasts
Ev'ry guest has a private apartment;--in fact,
Where a man who commits any praiseworthy act
Nay; it's better than many hotels you can find,
But they patch you up _gratis_ in body and mind
When Morning treads on the skirts of Night
Fields are gray when the sun's gone west,
Like a clerk from the City in search of rest.
From the young and green to the old and gray.
With a thousand things more nice than true.
With its plenty of silver--and no small change!--
From the young and green to the old and gray.
From the young and green to the old and gray.
The blight, the wind, the sun, or shower,