A joke or a laugh after me?
O tell me I yet have a frind
Though Bentinck I’m never to see.
The attindant is gone to his rest,
The Saxon lies down in his lair;—
While I think of the Isle of the West,
And turn up my bed[71] in dispair.
But whisky is still to be had;
And the whisky—encouraging thought!
As it is not by any means bad,