A New Song called The Sea, The Sea To which is added, The Last Shilling, Tho' you leave me now in sorrow, Irish Mary, The Marseillois Hymn [by Bryan Waller Procter] |
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THE LAST SHILLING. |
 | A New Song called The Sea, The Sea |  |
THE LAST SHILLING.
As pensive one night in my garret I sate,
My last shilling produced on the table;
That adventurer, cried I, might a history relate,
If to think and to speak it were able.
Whether fancy or magic `twas play'd me the freak,
The face seem'd with life to be filling:
And cried, instantly speaking or seeming to speak,
Pay attention to me—thy last shilling.
My last shilling produced on the table;
That adventurer, cried I, might a history relate,
If to think and to speak it were able.
Whether fancy or magic `twas play'd me the freak,
The face seem'd with life to be filling:
And cried, instantly speaking or seeming to speak,
Pay attention to me—thy last shilling.
4
I was once the last coin of the law a sad limb,
Who, in cheating was ne'er known to falter,
'Dill at length brought to justice the law cheated him,
And he paid me to buy him a halter.
A Jack tar, all his rhino, but me, at an end,
With a pleasure so hearty and willing,
Tho' hungry himself, to a poor distress'd friend,
Wished it hundreds, and gave his last shilling.
Who, in cheating was ne'er known to falter,
'Dill at length brought to justice the law cheated him,
And he paid me to buy him a halter.
A Jack tar, all his rhino, but me, at an end,
With a pleasure so hearty and willing,
Tho' hungry himself, to a poor distress'd friend,
Wished it hundreds, and gave his last shilling.
Twas the wife of a messmate, whose olistening eye,
With pleasure ran o'er as she view'd me:
She changed me for bread, as her child she heard cry,
And at parting with tears she bedew'd me.
But I've other scenes known, riot leading the way,
Pale want their poor families chilling;
Where rakes in their revels, the piper to pay,
Have spurned me—their best friend and last shilling.
With pleasure ran o'er as she view'd me:
She changed me for bread, as her child she heard cry,
And at parting with tears she bedew'd me.
But I've other scenes known, riot leading the way,
Pale want their poor families chilling;
Where rakes in their revels, the piper to pay,
Have spurned me—their best friend and last shilling.
'Thou thyself hast been thoughtless, profligate bail,
But to-morrow all care shalt thou bury,
When my little history thou offerest for sale,
In the interim spend me and be merry.
Never never, cried I, thou'rt my mentor, my muse,
And grateful, thy dictates fulfilling,
I'll hoard the in my heart,—thus men council refuse,
Till the lecture comes from the last shilling.
But to-morrow all care shalt thou bury,
When my little history thou offerest for sale,
In the interim spend me and be merry.
Never never, cried I, thou'rt my mentor, my muse,
And grateful, thy dictates fulfilling,
I'll hoard the in my heart,—thus men council refuse,
Till the lecture comes from the last shilling.
| A New Song called The Sea, The Sea | |