Some fret themselves to death, With Whig and Tory jar; Sir John requests my vote, Some want a German row, I never see the Post, I seldom read the Star, The Globe I scarcely heed, So I have my cigar. They tell me that bank stock Is sunk much under par, It's all the same to me, So I have my cigar. Honors have come to men, Ambition frets me not; A cab, or glory's car Are just the same to me, So I have my cigar. I worship no vain gods, But serve the household Lar; I do not seek for fame, So I have my cigar. To have my choice among The toys of life's bazaar, The deuce may take them all, So I have my cigar. Some minds are often tost By tempests, like a Tar; I always seem in port, The ardent flame of love, My bosom cannot char; I smoke, but do not burn, So I have my cigar. They tell me Nancy Low Has married Mr. R-: The jilt! but I can live, So I have my cigar. FAITHLESS NELLY GRAY. BEN BATTLE wa was a soldier bold, And used to war's alarms: But a cannon-ball took off his legs, So he laid down his arms! Now, as they bore him off the field, And the Forty-second Foot!" The army surgeons made him limbs: As represent my legs!" Now Ben he loved a pretty maid, But when he called on Nelly Gray, "O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray! Said she, "I loved a soldier once, For he was blithe and brave; But I will never have a man With both legs in the grave! "Before you had those timber toes, Your love I did allow, But then, you know, you stand upon Another footing now!" "O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray! For all your jeering speeches, At duty's call I left my legs But as they fetched a walk one day, And Sally she did faint away, "Why, then," said she, "you've lost The boatswain swore with wicked One end he tied around a beam, And there he hung till he was dead For though distress had cut him up, Says he, "They've only taken him It could not cut him down! A carpenter by trade, To the Tender ship, you see;" "The Tender ship," cried Sally Brown, What a hard-ship that must be! "Oh! would I were a mermaid now, For then I'd follow him; But, oh! - I'm not a fish-woman, And so I cannot swim. "Alas! I was not born beneath The Virgin and the Scales, And he fell in love with Sally Brown, So I must curse my cruel stars, That was a lady's maid. And walk about in Wales." How hard, when those who do not wish to lend, thus lose, their books, I, of my "Spenser" quite bereft, last winter sore was shaken; My "Mallet" served to knock me down, which makes me thus a talker; And once, when I was out of town, my "Johnson" proved a Walker." While studying, o'er the fire, one day, my " Hobbes," amidst the smoke, They bore my "Colman" clean away, and carried off my "Coke." They picked my "Locke," to me far more than Bramah's patent worth, And now my losses I deplore, without a "Home on earth. If once a book you let them lift, another they conceal, For though I caught them stealing Swift," as swiftly went my "Steele." 66 Hope" " is not now upon my shelf, where late he stood elated; Even "Glover's" works I cannot put my frozen hands upon; 66 I" Prior" sought, but could not see the "Hood" so late in front; 'Tis quite enough my griefs to feed, my sorrows to excuse, To think I cannot read my “Reid," nor even use my “Hughes;" My life is ebbing fast away; I suffer from these shocks, .. They still have made me slight returns, and thus my griefs divide; 66 For, as they never found me "Gay," they have not left me Sterne." FRANCIS HOPKINSON. THE BATTLE OF THE KEGS. GALLANTS, attend and hear a friend Trill forth harmonious ditty; Strange things I'll tell which late befell In Philadelphia city. 'T was early day, as poets say, Just when the sun was rising, A soldier stood on a log of wood, And saw a thing surprising. As in amaze he stood to gaze, The truth can't be denied, sir, He spied a score of kegs or more Come floating down the tide, sir. A sailor too, in jerkin blue, This strange appearance viewing, First rubbed his eyes, in great surprise, Then said some mischief's brewing. These kegs, I'm told, the rebels hold town, In this new way of ferrying. The soldier flew, the sailor too, And scared almost to death, sir, Wore out their shoes, to spread the news, And ran till out of breath, sir. Now up and down throughout the town Most frantic scenes were acted; Some fire cried, which some denied, Ran through the streets half naked. From sleep Sir William starts upright, He rubs both eyes, and boldly cries, At his bedside he then espied Sir Erskine at command, sir; And th' other in his hand, sir. "The rebels-more's the pity— Without a boat are all afloat, And ranged before the city. "The motley crew, in vessels new, With Satan for their guide, sir, Packed up in bags, or wooden kegs, Come driving down the tide, sir. "Therefore prepare for bloody war; These kegs must all be routed, Or surely we despised shall be, And British courage doubted." |