The songs of Joseph Mather

One day vindicating a mule,
There sprang from the regions below
An infamous, infernal owl,
In company with a black crow.
The owl being eager of prey,
Ere I of his claws could get clear,
He robbed me upon the highway,
For which I was muzzled a year.

CHORUS.

Bad luck to the crow and the owl,
Mat Linen and beef-headed Bob,
That silly old man with his mule,
And all the infernal black mob.

The crow, his companion and friend,
Who with him goes prying about;
He was always too idle to fend,
Which kept him long time in the moult.
But since he's deformity wed,
He swells, and his feathers shine clear;
With dainties he daily gets fed,
Although I've been muzzled a year.

Each day you may see this vile pimp
The dictates of satan pursue,
And surely he's Beelzebub's imp,
Who has always men's ruin in view.

His infamy, thousands agree,
Doth penetrate every year;
He thought to assassinate me,
The day I was muzzled a year.

This black diabolical train,
The devil but masters them all;
In view an advantage to gain,
They brought me to Loggerhead's Hall.
With infernal malice and rage
These ruffins surrounded me there,
And all their black arts did engage,—
They muzzled me for a whole year.

These pupils, allur'd by Old Nick,
Against me with more did conspire,—
Because I told knaves of their tricks,
Like tinder their spirit took fire.
And soon as they did of their base
Superlative villany hear,
They never could rest in a place,
Until I was muzzled a year.

My time being fully expired,
It's proper I vented my mind;
I've done what the law has required,
So why should my tongue be confined?
'Tis liberty Englishmen claim,
A priviledge counted most dear:
I only embraced the same,
For which I was muzzled a year.

University of Virginia Library

Song IV. BAD LUCK TO THE CROW AND THE OWL.

CHORUS.