Now Bacchus perceiving The lady was grieving, He spoke to her civil, and tipp'd her a wink; And the more that she fretted, He soother'd and petted, And gave her a glass her own health just to dhrink; Her pulse it beat quicker, The thrifle of liquor Enliven'd her sinking heart's cockles, I think So the moral is plain, That if love gives you pain, There's nothing can cure it like taking to dhrink. THE FAIRY BOY. A MOTHER came, when stars were paling, "O'er the mountain, thro' the wild wood, There I wander, growing fonder www “But in vain my plaintive calling, |