An Olla Podrida of Bartlemy Fair!
Ye lovers of mirth, eccentricity, whim,
Fill a glass to the health of our host, Uncle Tim.
And when you have fill'd, O! dismiss from your
mind
Whatever is selfish, ungrateful, unkind;
Let gentle humanity rise to the brim,
And then, if you please, you may toast Uncle Tim!
You need not be told that the wine must be old,
As sparkling and bright as his wit and his whim;