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And may it on my tomb be told

(I cannot think 'twould be a sin) Engraved at length in words of gold, The rogue he loved a glass of gin!!”

Derry down, &c.

THE LADIES' DRINKING SONG. Let topers drain the Aowing bowl,

And tipsy get for me;
I ne'er their orgies shall control,

So I've a bowl of tea;
And let them jest, and drink, and smoke,

And stir up mirth and glee;
I'll stir up (pleasure to provoke)

A smoking cup of tea.
When round the board the old and young

With characters make free,
The pivot of the prattling tongue,

What oils so well as tea?
By sorrow bid, should we take down

Noyeau or ratifie,
What can the fumes so fairly drown

As qualifying tea?
The type of life, its joys and cares,

This beverage we see;
The vital stream the water wears,

The bitters are the tea;
West-India's produce are the sweets;

And while they thus agree,
In cream the happy medium meets

That life corrects and tea.
Then let the great and rich give way, .

Pomp, pride, and pedigree, We find distinctions every day

Levelled by death and tea;

From gipsies underneath the hedge

To the grand coterie;
Kind females still each other pledge

In bowls of social tea.

A JOLLY FAT FRIAK.
A JOLLY fat friar loved liquor, good store,

And he had drank stoutly at supper;
He mounted his horse in the night at the door,

And sat with his face to the crupper. “ Some rogue," quoth the friar, “ quite dead to re

morse,
Some thief, whom a halter will throttle,
Some scoundrel has cut off the head of my horse,
While I was engaged with the bottle.”—

Which went gluggity, gluggity, glug.
The tail of this steed pointed south on the dale,

'Twas the friar's road home, straight and level; But when spurred, a horse follows his nose, not tail,

So he scampered due north like the devil. “ This new mode of docking,” the fat friar said,

" I perceive does not make a horse trot ill; And 'tis cheap, for he never can eat off his head, While I ain engaged with the bottle.”

Which goes gluggity, gluggity, glug. The steed made a stop, in the pond he had got;

He was rather for drinking than grazing; Quoth the friar,“tis strange headless horses should

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But to drink with their tails is amazing!" Turning round to find whence this phenomenon rose,

In the pond fell this son of a pottle; Quoth he, “ the head's found, for I'm under his nose, But I'd rather been over the bottle.”

Which goes gluggity, gluggity, glug.

DRINK TO THEE, SON OF GREAT JOVE.

HERE, Bacchus, here's to thee!

With pleasure I view thee,
With mirth and bright jollity crown'd;

Thy doxies, so tempting,

Wine sparkling, fermenting,
By pleasure on all sides surrounded,

Tis a glorious thing,
Sirs, to tutor a king,
And have a great pupil divine.

Then here, till I'm tipsy,

To thee and each gipsy,
Silenus will toss off his wine,

His wine-his wine;
Silenus will toss off his wine.

My cup it is empty!

Come, let us have plenty; · Thy Thyrsis will set the rocks flowing;

Our spirits beat quicker,

When warmed by the liquor,
With transports our bosoms are glowing;

Then let us delight in,

The dear bliss inviting,
A zest it will give to our love,
· While Silenus can stand,

Or reach mouth with his hand,
He'll drink to thee, son of great Jove!

Son of great Jove !-son of great Jove!
He'll drink to thee, son of great Jove.

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COMIC SONGS.

THE MERRY WIDOW. THERE was a merry widow, and she was very fat, She had a heavy purse, and she wa’n’t the worse for

that; She was blind of one eye, and she squinted with the

other; She had a wooden leg which hobbled with its brother,

Going hopperty, kickerty, bow, wow, wow,

Oh, beware of love! beware of love! She cocked her squinţing eye at me, I thought her

nought averse; I cast at her, too, one sheep's eye, another at her

purse; Then I asked her for her hand, truly thinking I had

won her; But she gave me her wooden foot plump in the seat of honor.

Going hopperty, &c. I persevered and won her, and bore my prize away; But oh! she died of drinking upon the wedding-day; I came in for her thumping purse, just like a hive of

honey, But I had all her debts to pay, and that boned all my . money.

Going hopperty, &c., , mmmm

JUST SO.
MR. DIP, tallow-chandler and dealer in fat,
By love was reduced till as thin as a rat;

And the maiden he loved was as pure as the snow,
And many a sigh did he give her-just so.
One night when his unlucky stars did prevail,
He drark with a friend about nine pints of ale;
It got in his head-put him quite in a glow,
And made his eyes roll all about him—just so.
He then went a courting, though not very fit,
And not able to stand, why he was forced to sit;
Says he, “ oh, my love, you'll excuse me I know,"
Says she, “Mr. Dip, you've been drinking”-just 80.
Says he, “ Oh! my angel, pray doubt not my love,
For you know I'm as faithful and true as a dove;
Only feel how my heart pit-a-pats to and fro,”
Says she, “ Mr. Dip, you're a brute beast”-just so.
“ My darling,” says he, “ only let me explain,
And I promise I never will do it again;
Come, let us be friends, kiss before I do go,"
Says she, then, to him, “ kiss the devil” just so.
“Oh! oh! then,” says he, “ if you're positive still,
And determined to show me you'll have your own will,
Curse me if I care for it!—I'll let you know,
I don't care a fig for your passiors”—just so.
He put on his hat, and he reeled to the door,
While the poor maiden's heart was getting quite sore;
Says he, “ by your cruelty here I do go;"
Says she, “ Mr. Dip, can you leave me?”-just so.
At hearing these words, Mr. Dip then turned back,
And gave her sweet lips such a good hearty smack;
Says he, “then next Sunday to church let us go,"
Says she, “oh, I have no objection,”-just so.

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