TUNE: Let Care be a Stranger.

1 In temperance train'd, yet I shun not the board, Where Plenty and Freedom their blessings

afford; The good things of earth we may freely enjoy, So we taste not of pleasure till pleasure shall cloy. In mirth and good-humour, I own, I delight, When mirth and good-humour are order'd

aright Good friends and good-cheer in due season I

prize, And my maxim is still-Be ye merry and wise.

2 Should indecency dare to speak out in a jest, Then mirth is degraded and wit is a pest; Nor scruple I make to pronounce it more

wrong When music and verse give it zest in a song.

Let wit, like the gold from the furnace be pure, Let verse give the song the chaste ear may

endure; I love but that mirth whence no dangers arise, For my maxim is still-Be ye merry and wise.


If our wine, or our ale, or whatever we quaff,
Instead of promoting the full friendly laugh,
Should tend to create either discord or broil,
And the ends of society wantonly spoil,
'Tis a waste of good things, 'tis a waste of our

time, 'Tis a meeting unsanction'd by “ reason or

rhyme”, So when strife begins, then I straightway arise, For my maxim is still-Be ye merry and wise.

4 Unless from the feast I retire with clear head, And blameless next morn can arise from my bed, If my neighbour I love not with more cordial

heart For the flow of good-humour uncheck'd till we

part, I were better at home with my plain bread and

cheese, - Where my wife and my children endeavour to


Where all is good humour, and no one denies "Tis the maxim of Wisdom-BE MERRY

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Ye jovial sons of mirth and glee,

Let's jocund be full well O!
Well pleas'd I look around to see

Each one an honest fellow.

Of woe and heart-corroding care,

Of pain and grief ne'er tell O!
In vain they seek for entrance here,

To wound each honest fellow.

The miser, fond of useless store,

Could he reflect but well 0 !
Would to the needy ope his door,

And te an honest fellow.

The Lover, with an April face,

His plaintive tale does tell 0. For shame! with ardour press the chace,

You'll be a charming fellow.


The Courtier, proud ambition's slave,

Knows where to fawn full well 0; How base the tricks of such a knave!

Beneath an honest fellow!


The essenc'd Fop, how vain his air,

This truth will find full well O! The man who wins the British fair,

Must be an honest fellow.


With heart sincere and free from guile,

He scorns a lie to tell O!
His friend he welcomes with a smile,

This is an honest fellow.


Pale envy, wrangling, strife forgot,

Be mine one wish to tell O! May joy and peace be still the lot

of every honest fellow.


Then charge each glass and join my lay,

The liquor's old and mellow,
Each jog his friend and nodding say,

Here's to thee, honest fellow.



1 Let care be a stranger to each cheerful soul, Who can, like Aristippus, 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.

* « To“ live all the days of our lives,” in a rational, pot a Bacchanalian sepse, is most desirable; for our mortal existence is a burden, and not a blessing, when the spring of the mind, as well as the sinews of the body, is broken down, and feeble dependence is constrained to lean on extraneous support.” Mrs. West's Letters to a Young Lady, Vol. III. p. 371.

3d Edit.

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