An honest life with worthy souls I've spent—
Come, fill my glass;'—he took it, and he went.—
"Poor Dolly Murrey!—I might live to see
My hundredth year, but no such lass as she.
Easy by nature, in her humour gay,
She chose her comforts, ratafia and play:
She loved the social game, the decent glass;
And was a jovial, friendly, laughing lass.
200
We sat not then at Whist demure and still,