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To be sure the old Ancients, as well as the Modems-,
Did not love a sup of good wine.
Did not, &c.
Next Habbakuk rose, for they took 'em in course,
But Habbakuk's cold had made Habbakuk hoarse ;
He declar'd he cou'dn't sing any more than the moon,
But if Moses pleas'd he wou'd whistle a tune. —
" LULabullero"
Jeremiah rose next, Sir, at Moses' desire,
Whom wit, Sir, nor wine cou'd ever inspire ;
And in strains which would suit the commemoration,
He sung them a verse of his own Lamentation.
Then rose up little Jonah, who look'd like a jelly,
For he was just come, Sir, out of the whale's belly,
For three days and three nights he was left to de-
spair,
So he sang unto Moses what he suffer'd there.
Jonah's song. — C£ase rude Boreas, blustering,
railer,
List ye Landsmen all to me ;
Messmates hear a brother sailor
Sing the dangers of the sea.
In the horrid belly pent, Sir,
Think on what I suffer'd there ;
Forc'd to keep a dismal Lent, Sir,
And to breathe infectious air ;
Nought but fish to feed upon, Sir,
And compell'd to eat it raw ;
For my uopes were ylmost gone, Sir ;
Ere I left the monster's jaw.
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