To drink, &c.
And when I am dead, I reckon,
The ladies will all want to, I know,
Just lift off the lid of the coffin,
And look at old Rosin the Bow.
And look, &c.
You must get some dozen good fellows,
And stand them all round in a row,
And drink out of half-gallon bottles,
To the name of old Rosin the Bow.