TRY IN TIME.
Och! Judy, my jewel, come here when I call;
We may now get wine gratis, for nothing at all;
And gold like paratees pil’d up in a heap,
Which is offer’d us too, honey, almost as cheap.
But there’s no time to lose if we’re meaning to try,
For ’tis all in one day, on the 15th July.
And since the grand scheme is beyond all compare,
He’s a spalpeen who won’t buy a fortunate share.
“Bish,” in another bill, oddly enough, put an old, one-legged smoker, with a patch over one eye, a carbuncled nose, and his only foot flannelled up for the gout, the effects of drinking, in an arm chair, with the following lines below:—
“Laid up in Port.”
Od’s blood! what a time for a seaman to skulk,
Like a lazy land-lubber ashore;
If I’m laid up at all, I’ll be laid up in port,
And surrounded by prizes galore.
Tommy Bish shall fill my glass,
And the puppies, as they pass,
Sha’n’t run down the old commodore,
The rich old commodore, the cosey old commodore,
The boozing old commodore he;
While I’m friends with mighty Bish,
He will crown my ev’ry wish,
Tho’ I’ll never more be fit for sea.
Then also, “Bish” favoured his “friends” with the opportunity of singing,
Bacchus and Plutus, or the Union.
Tune.—“Derry Down.”
A ROW was kick’d up in the regions above,
For Plutus and Bacchus for precedence strove;
And in words such as these did their anger express,
Till Jove swore he’d kick them both out of the mess.
Derry down.
First Bacchus advanc’d, tho’ he scarcely could stand,
Determin’d, he swore, to have the whip hand;
And thus he began.—“Why, you sordid old elf,
All your thoughts are employ’d in the scraping of pelf.