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(22) Page 18 - Wanton god
Bonny Ben was to each jolly meffmate a brother,
He was brave, open-hearted, good-naiur'd and iree,.
And if ever one tar was more true than another.
To his friend and his duty that failor was he :
One day with theDavid, to heave the cadge-anchor,
Ben went in a boat on a bold craggy {bore.
He over-board tripp'd, w hen a fhark or a Ipanker
iioon nipp'dhim in two, and wc ne'er law him more.
But grieving' s a folly, ^c.
Comethenjollyniefrinateslet'snot be down hearted
Becaufe that mayhap we now take otir laft fup,
Life's cable muft one day or other be parted,
And death in fall moorings muil bring us all up;
But 'lis always the cafe, and you'll fcarce find a. bro-
Sound as pitch, honeft-hearted and true to the core.
But by battle or fea, or fome dam'd thing or other,
They' re popp'd off the hooks and we ne'er fee them
Bihdin' But grieving s a folly ■, ^^ c-
The Wanton God.
THE wanton "God, who pierces hearts.
Dips in gall his pointed darts ;
'But the nympli difdalns to pine.
Who bathes the wound with rofy wine;
JRofy wine, rofy wine,
Who bathes the wound with rofy winel
•Farewell lovers when they're cloy'd,
If I'm Icorn'd becaufe enjoy'd,
5ure the fqueamifh fops are free
To rid me of dull company ;
Sure they're free, fare they're Tree,
To rid me of dull company.
They have charms, whilft mine can pleafe.;
I love tliem much, but more my eafe ;
No jealous fears my love moleft.
Nor faithlels vows fhall bresk my reft ;
Break my reft, break my reft.
Nor faithlefs vows fhall break my reil.
Why ftiould they e'er giv^ me pain,
.Who to give me joy difdain ?
All I hope of mortal man
Is to love me while he can ;
V\'hile he can, while he can.
Is to love me while he can.
Jolly Dick the Lanip-liglitero
'M jolly Dick the lamp-lighter.
They fay the lun's my dad,
And truly I'believe it, fir,
For I'm a pretty lad :
Father and I the v.orld delight,
And make it look lo gay,
The diff'rence is I lights by night.
And father lights by day.
But father's not the likes of I,
For knowing life and' fun ;
For I ftrange tricks and fancies fpy,
Folks never fhew the fun :
Rogues, owls and bats can't bear the light,
I've heard your wife ones fay,
And fo, d'ye mind, I fees at night
Things never feen by day.
At night men lay afide all art,
As i]uite a ufeleis tafk,
And many a face, and many a heart
Will then pull of the mafk ;
Each formal prude, and holy wiglit,
Will throw difguife away.
And fin it openly at night,
V*. ho fainted all the day.
His darling hoard the mifur views,
Miffes from friends decamp.
And many a ftatefman mifchief brews
To his country o'er his lamp ;
So father, and I, d'ye lake me right,
Are juft on the fame lay,
I bare-fac'd finners light by night.
And he falfe faitits by day.
Blow high, blow low.
BLOW high, blow low, let tempefts tear
The main-maft by the board,
My heart with thoughts of thee, my dear.
And love well ftored,
Shall brave all dangers, fcorn all -fear.
The roaring winds, the raging fea,
In hopes on fhore to be once more
Safe moor'd with thee.
Aloft while mountains high we go,
The -w/hillling winds that feud along,
And the furge roaring from below,
Shall myfignal be to think on thee,
And this fliall be my -fong
BUw high, Ihw low, ^c
And on that night when all the crew
The mem'ry of their former lives,
O'er flowing cans of flip renew.
And drink their fweet-hearts and their wives,
I'll heave a figh, and think on thee,
And as the fhip rolls thro' the fea,
The burden of my fotiff fhall be,
Blow high, blow low, Sft:.
Down the rugged Mouatain's Steep.
"TVOWN the rugged mountain's fleep,.
•*-^ Hark! the plunging waters leap,
Kufhing with refiftlefs force.
To the Derwent's gentler courfe,
Soon its fury will fubfide.
Then we'll truft ihe fafer tide.
Danger now awaits the wave.
Which the rafh alone vvould brave:
Hark ! the plunging waters leap
Down the rugged mountain's fleep :
Soon its fury wi-il fubfide,
1 hen we'll truft the fafer tide.
I can't for my Life.
Sungin the " Se/crter-"
Can't for my life guefs the caufe of this fuf^.
Why there's pipers& fidlersv while Robin& Harry
And Clodpole and Roger, and ten more of us
Have puU'd as-much fruit as we're able to caryy.
Wliy numfcull, that'snoihing;.Jierladyfhip's wine
All oyer the village runs juft like a four.tain;
And I heard thefolksfay, ev'Tj- difh when they dine
W ill be'fwimmingin tlaret, madeira&mountain
Then ior poultry, and fuch like — good lord, what
a ftore 1 ■/■
I faw Goodman Gander fix. bafkets f«ll cramming
Then fuch comfits and jellies ! why one fuch feaft
Would certainly breed in the village a famine.
AA'iiat the m. aning can be
We fhall prefenily fee,
For yonder's old KufTet, vi'ho certainly knows ;
But be what it will.
Our wifh fhall be ftill,
Joy and health to the Dutchefa v,herf\eT fhe goes!

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