Always let Lord Nelson’s memory go round,
For it is your duty, when you unites a meeting,
Because he was loyal and true to the crownd.
And now to conclude and finish these verses,
“My time it is come; kiss me, Hardy,” he cried.
Now thousands go with you, and ten thousand blessings
For gallant Lord Nelson in battle who died.
Mourn, England, mourn, mourn and complain,
For the loss of Lord Nelson, who died on the main.
The short scholar was in raptures; he shouted in the chorus; he banged the table till he upset and broke his tumbler, which the vigilant landlady from behind the casks duly noted, and scored up to him.