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For many a league I'd go

about To take a draught of Gifford's stout; I spy

the name of Truinan,
Of Maddox, Meux, and Co.
The sight makes me a new man,-

A pot of porter, ho!"
When to Old England I come home,
What joy to see the tankard foam !
With heart so light, and frolic high,
I drink it off to liberty !

ENGLISH ALE.

From the “Myrtle and the Vine."

If I lie, may

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D'YE mind me? I once was a sailor,
And in different countries I've been,

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 English good 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 sets one's good spirits agog;
But since upon land I've been steering,

Experience has alter'd 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,"

The music by LINLEY.
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 fuil of woe,
And now to the damsel that's

merry :
Let the toast pass, &c.

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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 them together:

Let the toast pass, &c.

THIS BOTTLE'S THE SUN OF OUR TABLE.

R. B. SHERIDAN. From the comic opera of “ The Duenna."

The music by LINLEY.
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'KEEFE. The song itself is a paraphrase of a classic poem, and is attributed to the Rev. FRANCIS FAWKES.

The music by WILLIAM SHIELD.
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 bure off the bell.

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It chanc'd, 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 resolv'd 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 fr.endship, 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 music by Sir H. R. BISHOP.
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.

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 blithe tale;
And so will we do now,

Jolly hearts !
And so will we do now.

A GLASS IS GOOD.

From O'KEEFE's farce of the “Sprigs of Laurel." The music by WILLIAM SHIELD.

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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 good 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.

Thomas DIBDIN. The music by John Davy.

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

And taught me how favour'd by fortune my lot, To share that good fortune I still was inclin’d,

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, though simple, means more than it says,

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

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The heart by deceit, or ingratitude rent,

Or by poverty bow'd, though 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, though simple, means more than it says,

“May we ne'er want a friend, nor a bottle to give him!”

A BUMPER OF GOOD LIQUOR.

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From the “Duenna,” by R. B. SHERIDAN. Set as a trio by LINLEY.

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