STANZAS TO AN INTOXICATED FLY.
T 'S a singular fact that whenever \
order
My goblet of GUINNESS or bumper of
Bass,
Out of ten or a dozen that sport round
the border
Some fly turns a somersault into my
glass.
Oh! it's not that I grudge him the
liquor he's tasted,
(Supposing him partial to ale or to stout),
But consider the time irretrievably wasted
In trying to fish the small wanderer out.
Ah! believe me, fond fly, 'tis excessively sinful,
This habit which knocks even bluebottles up;
Just remember what CASSIO, on getting a skinful,
Observ'd about "ev'ry inordinate cup!"
Reflect on that proverb, diminutive being,
Which tells us "Enough is as good as a feast;"
And, mark me, there's nothing more painful than seeing
An insect behaving so much like a beast.
Nay, in vain would you seek to escape while I'm talking,
And shake from your pinions the fast-clinging drops,
It is only too clear, from your efforts at walking,
That after your malt you intend to take hops.
Pray, where is your home? and oh! how shall you get there?
And what will your wife and your family think?
Pray, how shall you venture to show the whole set there
That Paterfamilias is given to drink.
Oh, think of the moment when Conscience returning
Shall put the brief pleasures of Bacchus to flight;
When the tongue shall be parch'd and the brow shall be burning,
And most of to-morrow shall taste of to-night!
For the toast shall be dry, and the tea shall be bitter,
And all through your breakfast this thought shall intrude;
That a little pale brandy and Seltzer is fitter
For such an occasion than animal food.
I have known, silly fly, the delight beyond measure—
The blissful sensation, prolong'd and intense—
The rapturous, wild, and ineffable pleasure,
Of drinking at somebody else's expense.
But I own—and it's not without pride that I own it—
Whenever some friend in his generous way
Bids me drink without paying, I simply postpone it,
And pay for my liquor the whole of next day!
(Published, with music, by Messrs Metzler and Co., Great Marlborough Street.)