Page:The Universal Songster and Museum of Mirth.djvu/201

 1)8 BACCHANALIAN SONGS. Our hearts are fast held by a cable, While round the decanter is shoved, The ladies all rise'to retire, We stand up and look very grave, A bumper, then draw round the fire, Determined like souls to behave. My servant he knows I'm a toper, Clean glasses, of wine a recruit, lie brings in a six gallon cooper And places it close at my foot; I gingerly take up a bottle, The saw-dust I putt from his coat, The cork out it sings in the throttle, But sweeter than Mars is his note. What gentleman coffee now choo, The compliment comes from the fair, 1o gentleman coffee refuses, But not a man stirs from his chair. Though Frenchmen may do so, I bear it, 'Tis brutish politeness I think; While Monsieur we pay for his claret, J-Ie never shall teach us to drink. (] Piebe now shows in Apollo, struggler 'tw/xt claret and wit, For Bacchus insists he shoji swallow Six bumpers before he can sit; �o fair, why so ill should we treat you, To part ere the bottle is won, At supper Apollo will met you, And show you what Btcchus hu donre. FRIEND OF MY SOUL. FtI*-wx) of my so21, this goblet sip, 'Twill chase the pensive tear;

�