The man o’ the moon for ever!
The man o’ the moon for ever!
We’ll drink to him still
In a merry cup of ale,—
Here’s the man o’ the moon for ever!
The man o’ the moon, here’s to him!
How few there be that know him!
But we’ll drink to him still
In a merry cup of ale,—
The man o’ the moon, here’s to him!
Brave man o’ the moon, we hail thee,
The true heart ne’er shall fail thee;
For the day that’s gone
And the day that’s our own—
Brave man o’ the moon, we hail thee.
We have seen the bear bestride thee,
And the clouds of winter hide thee,
But the moon is changed
And here we are ranged,—
Brave man o’ the moon, we bide thee.
The man o’ the moon for ever!
The man o’ the moon for ever!
We’ll drink to him still
In a merry cup of ale,—
Here’s the man o’ the moon for ever!
We have grieved the land should shun thee,
And have never ceased to mourn thee,
But for all our grief
There was no relief,—
Now, man o’ the moon, return thee.
There’s Orion with his golden belt,
And Mars, that burning mover,
But of all the lights
That rule the nights,
The man o’ the moon for ever!
THE TUB-PREACHER.
By Samuel Butler (Author of Hudibras).
To the tune of “The Old Courtier of the Queen’s.”
With face and fashion to be known,
With eyes all white, and many a groan,
With neck awry and snivelling tone,
And handkerchief from nose new-blown,
And loving cant to sister Joan;
’Tis a new teacher about the town,
Oh! the town’s new teacher!