Page:Pocock's Everlasting Songster.djvu/116

 ( 86 ) NOTHING LIKE GROG.

Plague of thofe mufly old 1 lubbers,

Who tell us to faft and to think, And patient fall in with life's rubbers, With nothing but water to drink : A cann of good fluff had they twigg'd it, Would have fet them for pleafure agog, And 'fpite of the rules Of the fchools, the old fools Would have all of 'em fwigg'd it, And fwore there was nothing like grog.

My father, when laft I from Guinea

Return'd with abundance of wealth, Cried, " Jack never be fuch a ninny

To drink" fays I, " Father, your health." So I pafl 'd round the fluff foon he twigg'd it 5

And it fet the old codger agog ;

And he fwigg'd, and mother, And fifter, and brother, And I fwigg'd, and all of us fwigg'd it,

And fwore there was nothing like grog.

One day when the chaplain was preaching,

Behind him I curioufly flunk, And while he our duty was teaching,

As how we mould never get drunk ; I tipt him the fluff, and he twigg'd it, Which foon fet his rey'rence agog ;

And he fwigg'd, and Nick fwigg'd, And Ben fwigg'd, and Dick fwigg'd, And I fwigg'd and all of us fwigg'd it, And fwore there was nothing like grog.

Then

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