To see thee makes my spirit glad,
In such respectable society.
Let every care disperse in smoke,
Each anxious thought in beer be drown'd,
While you enjoy your game, and smoke—
Top-sawyer of the skittle-ground.
"Boy, bring the heavy, for I'm dry,
"And scrape a little ginger in it;
"And now I'm ready for a shy
"At knock 'em down, and bet I'll win it.