There’s Jack has made a wondrous marriage,
There’s laughing Tom is laughing yet,
There’s brave Augustus drives his carriage,
There’s poor old Fred in the “Gazette”;
On James’s head the grass is growing:
Good Lord! the world has wagged a-pace,
Since here we set the claret flowing
And drank, and ate the Bouillabaisse.
Ah me! how quick the days are flitting.
I mind me of the time that’s gone,