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15

The Drunken Bucks.

I'm a lad well known in Town,
Among the fair, the black, the brown;
Can black an Eye, or break a crown,
With countenance so wise, sir:
A sup of drink will make you glad,
And cheer your heart however sad;
Too much, you know, will make you mad,
And close up both your eyes, sir.

(Speaking).
For my part, I likes a sup, it makes me so funny—I loves fun, and likes to keep it up—Yesterday I drove a blind horse into a china shop—that was d---d jolly—and last night I toss'd the waiter out of the window, and bid the landlord charge him in the reckoning.

(Chorus to every verse).

Tipsey, dizzy, muzzy,
Sucky, groggy, drinking port;
We bucks are always muzzy—
O, damme, that's your sort.
Drink, doctors say, will hurt your health,
Though oft' they take a sup by stealth—
And Justice says 'twill hurt your wealth—
For this they get their fees, sir:
The Quaker, too, don't drink, he'll say,
Tho' by himself he'll suck away,
And sanctified cries yea and nay,
As muz'd as you see me, sir.

(Speaking).
I'll tell you what—I said one of the best things, last week, I ever said in my life—it was a bon mot, or jew de sprit, or a rapartee, I don't know which.—I'll tell you—I was in high spirits—so I stole a dog from a blind man—for I loves fun—so then the blind man cried for his dog, and that made me laugh—so says I to the blind man, hip, master, do you want

16

your dog? “Yes, sir, says he.”—Now only mind what I said to the blind man—says I, do you want your dog? “Yes, sir, says he”—Then says I to the blind man—says I—go look for him.—Keep it up!

Tipsey, dizzy, &c.
When ladies drink, we sneering say,
Or point in pantomimic way,
Upon my soul, she's rather gay,
Indeed she's mighty muddled:
When bucks are bub'd, they're in the sun,
So keep it up, for I loves fun,
And when a husband up is done,
The wife cries, “Deary's fuddled.”

(Speaking).
Now, my wife's one of the cleverest men in our parish—she always makes her mutton pies of beef steaks; and she will have it, that the shortest day is too long by a yard and a half; but I am so doatingly fond of her, if she long'd for arsenic, I'd go ten miles but she shou'd have it.

Tipsey, dizzy, &c.
When Jack is grog'd, he's ship'd his beer,
Stand clear—make way—mind how you steer;
The lover, he sighs out, my dear!
I'm prim'd without much trouble:
Sometimes disguis'd, and sometimes mellow,
A bosky rocky chearful fellow,
And when I'm muz'd, the truth I tello—
I every thing see double.

(Speaking).
I went to see my brother Tom yesterday, and I never swore so well in my life—I swore all my new oaths—it wou'd have done you good to have heard me swear—So, Tom says, “Brother, brother, what will this world come to?” Says I, the same place it set out from this day twelve-month.—“These are very slippery times, very slippery times.”—They are always so in frosty weather.—“I can't bear to see such times!”—Shut your eyes then.

Tipsey, dizzy, &c.
17

Then, bring me bowls of gen'rous wine,
Since life's a jest, I ne'er repine;
The morning sun begins to shine—
We'll do some deed of wonder:
The Germans say they drink the most,
And France and Italy will boast;
Old England still will rule the roast,
And make 'em all knock under.

(Speaking).
I understands history—and I always lov'd Queen Anne, because as how her name was Betty.—Where the devil's my bottle?

(Drink some local toast).
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