Obrázky na stránke
PDF
ePub

John Adams' Son, my Jo, John, 'twould be a maister stroke,

Gin ye could put to death soon, that fellow Roanoke; Ye've tried to prove him mad, John, but oh, it will na do, He is na mad nor Tazwell fou, John Adams' Son, my Jo. John Adams' Son, my Jo, John, ye've climb'd the highest steeple,

But dinna tak it in your head to scorn the Sov❜reign People;

Ye're getting Ultra Fed', John, and lift too high your

pow,

Draw in that cloven foot, ye de'il, John Adams' Son, my Jo.

John Adams' Son, my Jo, John, turn down to earth your eyes,

And dinna taĺk o' building "Light Houses o' the Skies;" Quit "Exploration" schemes, John, and ilka thing forego,

They ca' unconstitutional, John Adams' Son, my Jo.

THE VICAR OF BRAY.

In my good Father's royal days,
The reign nick-nam'd of terror;
A zealous Monarchist I was,
And never own'd my error-

All Democrats were Jacobines,

Agog for Revolution;

And "Rights of Man" were but the means

To kick up some confusion,

And this is true I will maintain,

And so will Hen y Cl y, sir.

That ev'ry man who wants to reign,

Must be a Vicar of Bray, sir.

When Jefferson obtained the throne,

I felt a deep conviction:

In Congress Hall I made it known,
And voted for Restriction-

[ocr errors]

The Terrapin was then the thing, Most worthy imitation,

And not such geese as Pickering;
So down with Exportation:

And this is true I will maintain,
And so will Hen y Cl y, sir;

That ev'ry man who wants to reign,
Must be a Vicar of Bray, sir.

When Madison eclips'd Monroe, I did my service tender,

And soon was sent a Plenipo,
To Russian Alexander-

The loaves and fishes thus I got,
And gull'd th' Administration,
Nor did I care a single groat,
For former friend's damnation :

And this is true I will maintain,
And so will Hen y Cly, sir;

That ev'ry man who wants to reign,
Must be a Vicar of Bray, sir.

When James the Second proved to be, "The star of the ascendant,"

I plotted my catastrophe,

As I was still dependent

And so you see it came to pass In Fortune's wild vagary,

"Write poor Dogberry down an ass,'

But write me Secretary:

And this is true I will maintain,
And so will Hen y Cly, sir;

That ev'ry man who wants to reign,

Must be a Vicar of Bray, sir.

Great Britain once I did adore,

But now I took my cue, sir;

Her greatness, pshaw! twas all a bore, And I began t' abuse her

I kept a sharp lookout ahead,
Ran down the English nation,
As all who wish may fully read
In my July oration:

And this is true I will maintain,
And so will Hen y Cl y, sir;

That ev'ry man who wants to reign,
Must be a Vicar of Bray, sir.

When Jemmy's eight long years were gone, I'm free to be confessor,

I fix'd my eye upon the throne,
For who could tell successor?
But when I heard the People roar,
And saw their clear intent, sir,

I play'd old Talleyrand once more
And wooed the man of Ghent, sir:

And this is true I will maintain,
And so will Hen y CI y, sir;

That ev'ry man who wants to reign,
Must be a Vicar of Bray, sir.

So Hal and I were cup and can,
He Congress-men could twist, sir,

And triumph'd o'er the great Hang-man, T' Arbuthnot and Ambrister!

We boldly argued him unfit,

To fill such lofty stations.

Who I myself before had writ

Was right by laws o' nations:

And this is true I will maintain,

And so will Hen y Cl y, sir;

That ev'ry man who wants to reign
Must be a Vicar of Bray, sir.

Th' illustrious Coalition, and "Safe precedent succession,"

For these I'll join both heart and hand,

"While I can keep possession;"

And by my plighted faith, dear Clay, With you I will not palter,

And you shall have my place one day, "Unless my mind should alter :"

And this is true I will maintain,
And so will Hen y Cl y, sir;

That ev'ry man who wants to reign
Must be a Vicar of Bray, sir,

156939

And now I'm firmly seated high, I may have some opinion,

I need no longer now deny I hate the Old Dominion

Her stubborn pride must now succumb, Her strength be lost by fractures,

We've got her down beneath our thumb, By dint of manufactures:

And this is true I will maintain
And so will Hen y Cl y, sir ;

That ev'ry man who wants to reign
Must be a Vicar of Bray, sir,

No longer palsied will we sit,
But with one mighty movement,
We'll ruin our Constituents yet,
By means of their improvement—
We'll make a splendid kingdom rise
Like European nations.

And from Light Houses of the Skies,
We'll send them Corruscations:

And this is true I will maintain
And so will Hen y Cl y, sir;
That ev'ry man who wants to reign
Must be a vicar of Bray, sir.

TO TOBACCO.

Food fills the wame an' keeps us livin'
Tho' life's a gift no worth receivin,'
When heavy dragg'd wi' pine an' grievin'
But oil'd by thee,

The wheels o' life gae downhill, screivin;
Wi' rattlin glee.—Burns.

Some talk of black eyed girls and blue,
And some of cheeks of rosy hue,
Of wit and wine and friendship true;
They're well enough-

Tobacco!! give me thee to chew
To smoke, or snuff.

Oh! fragaant plant where'er you are,
In box or pouch, or sweet segar,
Havanna! Brown's! or Maccabau!
Thou best of weeds!

Crown him the first of Bards, by far,
Who sings thy deeds.

I love to sit and see thee curl'd
In circling smoke, and upward whirl'd,
A pinch of snuff for all the world!
At such a time-

Unto the winds my cares be hurl'd:
I feel sublime,

When thou dost titilate my nose,
It seems to dissipate my woes,
I feel a thrill down to my toes
Quite 'cap a pee,'

Ah! wretched he who never knows
Thy joys, Rappee!

When cold compelleth us to wheeze
Who would exchange one glorious sneeze
For all the charms of all the shes
For wealth or wine?

And what so soon can raise a breeze
As Number Nine?

He who'd of ev'ry ill be rid,

Has but to take a monstrous quid

Into the mouth, let it be slid

And draw the breath

Then, like the reckless Richard Fid,
Who cares for death ?-

There's scarce a man in all this nation,
Of high or lowly occupation,

No matter what may be his station
On life's long docket

But keeps you in some sort of fashion
Snug in his pocket.

Your Tradesman with his hardy fist,
In ecstasy will grasp his twist

« PredošláPokračovať »