Songs, ballads, and the like: here 's no such strawy blaze,

But sky wide ope, sun, moon, and seven stars out full-flare!

Tab, help and tell! I 'm hoarse. A mug! or —no, a prayer!

Dip for one out of the Book! Who wrote it in the Jail

—He plied his pen unhelped by beer, sirs, I 'll be bail!

"I 've got my second wind. In trundles she—that 's Tab.

'Why, Gammer, what 's come now, that—bobbing like a crab

On Yule-tide bowl—your head 's a-work and both your eyes

Break loose? Afeard, you fool? As if the dead can rise!

Say—Bagman Dick was found last May with fuddling-cap