Ye topers all drink to the soul,
Of this right honest fellow;
Who always loved a flowing bowl,
And would in death be mellow.
The lamp of life be kindled up,
With spirit stout and glowing;
His heart inspired thus with a cup,
Ascends where nectar’s flowing.
——————————
London:—Ryle & Co., Printers, 2 & 3, Monmouth Court, Bloomsbury.
——————————
RECITATIVE.
O’er Nelson’s tomb, with silent grief oppress’d
Britannia mourns her hero now at rest.
But these bright laurels ne’er shall fade with years,
Whose leaves are water’d by a Nation’s tears.
AIR.
’Twas in Trafalgar’s bay,
We saw the Frenchmen lay,
Each heart was bounding then;
We scorned the foreign yoke—
Our ships were British oak,
And hearts of oak our men,
Our Nelson mark’d them on the wave,
Three cheers our gallant seamen gave,
Nor thought of home or beauty;
Along the line this signal ran—
“England expects that every man
This day will do his duty!”
