D'YE mind me? I once was a sailor,

And in different countries I've been,

If I lie may I go for a tailor!

But a thousand fine sights I have seen: I've been cramm'd with good things like a wallet, And I've guzzled more drink than a whale,

But the very best stuff to my palate,

Is a glass of your English good ale.

Your doctors may boast of their lotions,
And ladies may talk of their tea;
But I envy them none of their potions,
A glass of good stingo for me!
The doctor may sneer if he pleases,
But my recipe never will fail,

For the physic that cures all diseases,
Is a bumper of good English ale.

When my trade was upon the salt ocean,
Why there I had plenty of grog,

And I lik'd it, because I'd a notion
It set one's good spirits agog;
But since upon land I've been steering,
Experience has altered my tale,

For nothing on earth is so cheering

As a bumper of English good ale.

HERE'S TO THE MAIDEN OF BASHFUL FIFTEEN.

R. B. SHERIDAN. From the Comedy of "The School for Scandal."

HERE'S to the maiden of bashful fifteen,

Now to the widow of fifty;

Here's to the flaunting extravagant quean,

And here's to the housewife that's thrifty:
Let the toast pass,

Drink to the lass,

I warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
Here's to the charmer whose dimples we prize,
Now to the damsel with none, sir;

Here's to the girl with a pair of blue eyes,
And now to the nymph with but one, sir:
Let the toast pass, &c.

Here's to the maid with a bosom of snow,
Now to her that's as brown as a berry;
Here's to the wife with a face full of woe,
And now to the damsel that's merry:
Let the toast pass, &c.

For let her be clumsy, or let her be slim,
Young or ancient, I care not a feather;
So fill up a bumper, nay fill to the brim,
And let us e'en toast 'em together:

Let the toast pass, &c.

THIS BOTTLE'S THE SUN OF OUR TABLE.

R. B. SHERIDAN. From the Comic Opera of "The Duenna."
THIS bottle's the sun of our table,

His beams are rosy wine;

We planets that are not able
Without his help to shine.

Let mirth and glee abound!
You'll soon grow bright
With borrow'd light,

And shine as he goes round.

THE BROWN JUG.

From the Opera of the "Poor Soldier," by J. O'KEEFFE. The song itself is attributed to the REV. FRANCIS FAWKES.

DEAR Tom, this brown jug that now foams with mild ale

(Out of which I now drink to sweet Nan of the vale),

Was once Toby Filpot, a thirsty old soul

As e'er crack'd a bottle, or fathom'd a bowl.
In boozing about 'twas his pride to excel,
And among jolly topers he bore off the bell.

It chanced, as in dog-days he sat at his ease
In his flow'r-woven arbour, as gay as you please,
With a friend and a pipe, puffing sorrow away,
And with honest old stingo was soaking his clay,
His breath-doors of life on a sudden were shut,
And he died full as big as a Dorchester butt.

His body, when long in the ground it had lain,
And Time into clay had resolved it again,

A potter found out in its covert so snug,

And with part of fat Toby he form'd this brown jug,
Now, sacred to friendship, to mirth and mild ale
So here's to my lovely sweet Nan of the vale.

THE WINDS WHISTLE COLD.

From the Opera of " Guy Mannering." DANIEL TERRY, born 1780, died 1828.

THE winds whistle cold,

And the stars glimmer red,

The flocks are in fold,

And the cattle in shed.

When the hoar frost was chill

Upon moorland and hill,

And was fringing the forest bough,

Our fathers would troul

The bonny brown bowl,

And so will we do now,

Jolly hearts!

And so will we do now.

H

Gaffer Winter may seize

Upon milk in the pail; 'Twill be long ere he freeze

The bold brandy and ale;

For our fathers so bold,

They laugh'd at the cold,

When Boreas was bending his brow;

For they quaff'd mighty ale,

And they told a blythe tale,

And so will we do now,
Jolly hearts!

And so will we do now.

A GLASS IS GOOD.

From the Farce of the "Rival Soldiers."

A GLASS is good, and a lass is good,

And a pipe is good in cold weather;
The world is good, and the people are good,
And we're all good fellows together.

A bottle is a very good thing,

With a good deal of wine in it;

A song is good, when a body can sing,

And to finish, we must begin it.

For a glass is good, and a lass is good,

And a pipe is good in cold weather;
The world is good, and the people are good,
And we're all good fellows together.

A friend is good when you're out of good luck,
For that is the time to try him;

For a justice, good, the haunch of a buck,

With such a good present you'll buy him; A fine old woman is good when she's dead; A rogue very good, for good hanging; A fool is good, by the nose to be led, And my song deserves a good banging. For a glass is good, and a lass is good, And a pipe is good in cold weather; The world is good, and the people are good, And we're all good fellows together.

MAY WE NE'ER WANT A FRIEND, NOR A BOTTLE TO GIVE HIM.

THOMAS DIBDIN.

SINCE the first dawn of reason that beam'd on my mind

And taught me how favoured by fortune my lot,

To share that good fortune, I still was inclined,

And impart to who wanted, what I wanted not. 'Tis a maxim entitled to ev'ry one's praise,

When a man feels distress, like a man to relieve him, And my motto, tho' simple, means more than it says, "May we ne'er want a friend, or a bottle to give him."

The heart by deceit or ingratitude rent,

Or by poverty bow'd, tho' of evils the least,
The smiles of a friend may invite to content,

And we all know content is an excellent feast;

"Tis a maxim entitled to ev'ry one's praise,

When a man feels distress, like a man to relieve him,

And my motto, tho' simple, means more than it says,

66

'May we ne'er want a friend, nor a bottle to give him."

A BUMPER OF GOOD LIQUOR.

From the "Humming Bird." Canterbury, 1785.

A BUMPER of good liquor
Will end a contest quicker
Than justice, judge, or vicar:
So fill a cheerful glass,
And let good humour pass:
But if more deep the quarrel,
Why sooner drain the barrel,
Than be the hateful fellow
That's crabbed when he's mellow.
A bumper, &c