When gracious Anne became our queen, I damn'd their moderation; When George in pudding time came o'er, The illustrious house of Hanover, I never more will faulter, Tom Starboard. TOM Starboard was a lover true, 'The duties ablest seamen do Tom did, and never yet had fail'd. But wreck'd as he was homeward bound, Within a league of England's coast, Love sav'd him sure from being drown'd, For all the crew but Tom was lost. His strength restor'd, Tom hied with speed, In fight Tom Starboard knew no fear, Had sav'd his life, and fate was kind. With love; his heart was heart of oak. " Ashore, in haste, Tom nimbly ran Aristippus. LET care be a stranger to each jovial souľ Who, Aristippus like, can his passions controul; Of wisest philosophers wisest was he, Who, attentive to ease, let his mind still be free; The prince, peer, or peasant to him were the same, For pleas'd, he was pleasing to all where he came, But still turn'd his back on contention and strife,Resolving to live all the days of his life. A Friend to mankind, all mankind was his friendAnd the peace of his mind was his ultimate end; He found fault with none, if none found fault with him, If his friend had a humour, he humour'd his whim; If wine was the word, why he bumper'd his glassIf love was the topic, he toasted his lass; But still turn'd his back on contention and strife, Resolving to live all the days of his life. If councils disputed, if councils agreed, He found fault with neither; for this was his creed, Was the nation at war, he wish'd well to the sword; Was the longitude only he never could find. The philosopher's stone was but gravel and pain, And all who had sought it, had sought it in vain ; He still turn'd his back on contention and strife, Resolving to live all the days of his life. Then let us all follow Aristippus's rules, By those maxims may live all the days of our lives, Past Twelve o'clock. ONE evening Good Humour took Wit as his guest, Resolv'd to indulge in a sensible feast; Their liquor was claret, and Friendship their host, And mirth, song, and sentiment, garnish'd each toast. Derry down, &c. But while like true bucks, they enjoy'd their design, For the joy of a buck lies in love, wit, and wine; Alarm'd, they all heard at the door a loud knock, And the watchman, hoarse, bellow'd, ""Twas past twelve o'clock." D Thy nimbly ran down, the disturbing dog found, And up stairs they dragg'd the impertinent hound; When brought to the light, how much they were pleas'd To see 'twas the grey glutton Time they had seiz'd. His glass as his lanthorne, his scythe as his pole, And his single lock dangl'd adown his smooth scull; My friends," quoth he, coughing, I thought fit 66 to knock, 66 And bid you be gone, for 'tis past twelve o'clock." Said the venom'd-tooth sagé, "on this advice fix, "Tho' Nature strikes twelve, Folly still points to six" He longer had preach'd, but no longer they'd bear it, So hid him at once in a hogshead of claret. "This is right!" call'd out Wit, "while you're yet in your prime, There's nothing like claret for killing of Time." "Huzza!" reply'd Love," now no more can he knock, Or impertinent, tell us-'tis past twelve o'clock.” Since Time is confin'd to our wine, let us think drink; With bumpers, my lads! let our glasses be prim'd, Now we're certain our drinking is always well-tim❜d, |