University of Virginia Library

SONG XXX.

I

Come Boyes fill us a Bumper,
Wee'l make the Nation roar,
She's grown sick of a Rumper,
That stick's on the old score,
Pox a Phanaticks wee'l rout 'em,
They do thirst for our blood.
We'le raise our taxes without'em,
And Drink for the Nations good.

II

Charge the Pottles and Gallons,
And bring the Hoggshead in.
We'l begin with a tall one,
And Rummers to our King.
Round a round with a fresh one,
Let no man balke his Wine,
We'l drink to the next in Succession,
And keep in the right line.