Page:Bon-Accord Sangster.pdf/7

 Parsons preach that drink's demerits

Bring us all to Tophet's brink;

While their Elders deal in spirits,

And their Deacons draw our clink.

Templars, decked in Popish tucker,

Spread their chaff to gull our class;

Templars, leagued the weak to succour,

Give the sign but grip the glass!

Bring the pipe with lengthy stalk in,

Well Tobacco Bacchus serves;

Smoke promotes enligtened talkin',

Wings the fancy—soothes the nerves.

Smoke, nor name our lair for sleeping,

Fireless hearth and sloppy floor;

Smoke till vapours round us creeping

Screen from peepers at the door.

Statesmen, like the press of Bramah,

Tax from Pipe and Bicker squeeze;

Drinking paid the Alabama,

Smoking smored the Ashantecs;

Near Balmoral's banner'd turrets,

Lochnagar* recruits the cag;

And the smoke of "royal” spirits

Stains the folds of Britain's flag.

While the Pipe and Bicker cheer us

Wondrous scenes enchant our view;

Robed in clouds, like Fingal's heroes,

Swift we mount—Police, adieu!"—

Drinking, smoking, grandly soaring,

Till the floor arrests their head,

Leave we safe our heroes snoring

Where Incapables are spread.