Scripscrapologia or, Collins's Doggerel Dish Of All Sorts. Consisting of Songs Adapted to familiar Tunes, And which may be sung without the Chaunterpipe of an Italian Warbler, or the ravishing Accompaniments of Tweedle-Dum or Tweedle-Dee. Particularly those which have been most applauded in the author's once popular performance, call'd, The Brush. The Gallimaufry garnished with a variety of comic tales, quaint epigrams, whimsical epitaphs, &c. &c. [by John Collins] |
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THE HEARTY OLD ODD FELLOW.— A Song. |
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THE HEARTY OLD ODD FELLOW.— A Song.
While with Health on one Hand, and Content on the other,
I enjoy a Companion and Friend,
That leave me no Cares nor Vexations to smother,
Which oft on poor Mortals attend;
And while I reflect, that, with Doctor and Drug,
But few have through Life brush'd so well,—O!
I give Thanks that with Time I've so long stood the Tug,
Still a hearty and sound old Odd Fellow!
I enjoy a Companion and Friend,
That leave me no Cares nor Vexations to smother,
Which oft on poor Mortals attend;
And while I reflect, that, with Doctor and Drug,
But few have through Life brush'd so well,—O!
I give Thanks that with Time I've so long stood the Tug,
Still a hearty and sound old Odd Fellow!
The Blessings of Youth I enjoy'd while I held 'em,
Though Life's but a short fleeting Day;
And Mortals are pleas'd with its Ev'ning but seldom,
Yet I'll welcome its last parting Ray;
And though Time in my Face its deep Furrows may plow,
And the Bloom on my Cheek may turn Yellow,
Discontent he shall never see perch'd on the Brow
Of a hearty old honest Odd Fellow!
Though Life's but a short fleeting Day;
And Mortals are pleas'd with its Ev'ning but seldom,
Yet I'll welcome its last parting Ray;
And though Time in my Face its deep Furrows may plow,
And the Bloom on my Cheek may turn Yellow,
Discontent he shall never see perch'd on the Brow
Of a hearty old honest Odd Fellow!
We know that fine Words may be founded in Fiction,
And with Friends 'tis too often the Case;
Yet if ever I meet an old Friend in Affliction,
May I never put on a new Face;
Nor a Stranger distrest pass unfeelingly by,
While his Tale to the Winds he may tell—O!
But brush off if I can, the big Tear from his Eye,
Like a hearty old honest Odd Fellow!
And with Friends 'tis too often the Case;
Yet if ever I meet an old Friend in Affliction,
May I never put on a new Face;
Nor a Stranger distrest pass unfeelingly by,
While his Tale to the Winds he may tell—O!
But brush off if I can, the big Tear from his Eye,
Like a hearty old honest Odd Fellow!
And while thus through Life I brush on strange and oddly,
When the Book of my Failings I scan,
'Tis my Wish, by Reform, ere I under the Sod lie,
To brush them all off if I can:
And when the green Grass shall, like Thatch, overspread
The low Roof where at last I must dwell—O!
May each Friend left behind, 'till he spins his last Thread,
Prove a hearty old honest Odd Fellow!
When the Book of my Failings I scan,
'Tis my Wish, by Reform, ere I under the Sod lie,
To brush them all off if I can:
And when the green Grass shall, like Thatch, overspread
The low Roof where at last I must dwell—O!
May each Friend left behind, 'till he spins his last Thread,
Prove a hearty old honest Odd Fellow!
| Scripscrapologia | |