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 Touch thee! sure as there's vengeance

In this fist, I'll sear the moon

With thy broken skull!

But—one embrace before thou die:—

(tasting.)

'Tis best to part in friendship.

Ah! thou last some virtues yet:

I always thought 'twas best,

To give the devil his due:

And—(tasting)—though devil thou art,

Thou hast a pleasant face—

A sparkling eye—a ruby lip—

A blushing cheek—and thy breath—

(tasting)

'Tis sw-e-eter than the

Bre-e-zes that ev-er gambol

Till the break of day

A a mong the beds of roses.

My ho honey (tasting) thou shalt not die.

I'll stand by thee, day and night,

And fi-ight like Her (hic) cu-les.

I'll re e-each the parson (hic) a little wisdom

I'll preach (hic) tem-per-ance too,

I'll live on mil-(hic)k and honey,

And (falling) be the ha hap-pi-est man ''on earth. (hic.)''

With fruitless labour, Clara bound

And strove to staunch, the gushing wound

The Monk, with unavailing cares,

Exhausted all the Church's prayers.

Ever, he said, that, close and near,

A lady's voice was in his ear,

And that the priest he could not hear,

For that she ever sung.