 | Songs, comic and satyrical |  |
THE POINT.
Since at last I am free, contented I'll be,
O'er briars barefooted to go;
Or lost in the rain, upon Sal'sbury Plain,
Or left without cloaths in the snow.
O'er briars barefooted to go;
Or lost in the rain, upon Sal'sbury Plain,
Or left without cloaths in the snow.
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Or if I shou'd perch on top of Paul's church,
The hottest day, just about noon,
Astride the cross sat, without hood or hat,
I'd whistle off pain with a tune.
The hottest day, just about noon,
Astride the cross sat, without hood or hat,
I'd whistle off pain with a tune.
For now I am free, no low spirits for me,
I laugh at all crosses I find;
I think as I please, and reflect at my ease,
For Liberty lies in the mind.
I laugh at all crosses I find;
I think as I please, and reflect at my ease,
For Liberty lies in the mind.
To my Fancy I live, and what Fancy can give,
I enjoy, tho' it is but a dream;
Observe the world through, do others pursu
Ought else than a fanciful scheme?
I enjoy, tho' it is but a dream;
Observe the world through, do others pursu
Ought else than a fanciful scheme?
Some fancy the court, some fancy field-sport,
The chace of a beauty some chuse;
The topers with wine, the misers with coin,
And poets are pleas'd with their muse.
The chace of a beauty some chuse;
The topers with wine, the misers with coin,
And poets are pleas'd with their muse.
La Mancha's mad knight, with wind-mills wou'd fight,
Like him our attempts are a jest;
With envy insane, and with projects so vain,
Each sneers at the schemes of the rest.
Like him our attempts are a jest;
With envy insane, and with projects so vain,
Each sneers at the schemes of the rest.
This extravagancy on Folly or Fancy,
Appears to be rather too long;
With something that's shrew'd, I wish to conclude,
And make this an epigram song.
Appears to be rather too long;
With something that's shrew'd, I wish to conclude,
And make this an epigram song.
In a point it must end, on a point I depend,
And like a staunch pointer I'll stand;
I appoint you to sing, I appoint you to ring,
And a Scotch pint of claret command.
And like a staunch pointer I'll stand;
I appoint you to sing, I appoint you to ring,
And a Scotch pint of claret command.
| Songs, comic and satyrical | |