JOSSY'S NAG'S HEAD.
Tune—"A rampant Lion is my Sign."
All you who've got an hour to spare,
And wish to spend it merry,
Go not to houses of ill-fame,
Nor sport with Tom and Jerry:
Direct your course to Armfield's house,
Where none the least alarm feels,
Where mirth and fun reign uncontroll'd,
All in Josiah Armfield's.
CHORUS.
Then drink about and merry be,
Let each one fill his station,
And ne'er despise a flowing pot,
When bent on recreation.
In winter, when the weather's cold,
The pinching frost may starve you,
You'll find a fire to your desire,
A buxom lass to serve you:
Her smiles are like the flowers in May,
Her conversation charms weel:
Far be the fellow takes her in,
While selling drink at Armfield's.
Then drink about, &c.
Now should you know the art of war,
The news may lead your mind there;
Or if inclin'd to grace the bar,
Some of your cloth you'll find there:
Mock trials, hot debates go on,
Yet seldom any harm feel,
The counsellors plead your cause for nought,
Law's cheap at Jossy Armfield's.
Then drink about, &c.
Next in the tap-room take a peep,
There's eggs and pie-folk dealing;
Some try their luck at single toss,
And other some are stealing:
The bakky smoke ascends in clouds,
Yet none will say he harm feels;
You'd swear you were near Etna's Mount,
Instead of Jossy Armfield's.
Then drink about, &c.
The sailors sing their dangers o'er,
When sailing on the high seas;
Says Donald frae Fife, "I've left the North,
Where Parry wad lost his ideas."
"Come, d—n!" says Durham lad, "leet my pipe,
And give us nyen o' your yarn reels;
But pay the quart—Ise be the next,
We'll hev a spree at Armfield's."
Then drink about, &c.