You toast your wife, and you your lass, (As Landlord) Spirits, my lads, and toast away, I have ftill one with yours to join; "That you may have enough to pay," This is my toast,— -now give me thine. Sea Songs Sea Songs, &c. THE WANDERING SAILOR. THE BY DR. ARNOLD. HE Wand'ring Sailor ploughs the main, Undaunted braves the stormy feas, To find at last content and ease; In hopes, when toil and danger's o'er, II. When winds blow hard, and mountains roll, III. When round the bowl the jovial crew May we, when toil and danger's o'er, Caft anchor on our native fhore. SONG. NOTHING LIKE GROG. COMPOSED BY MR. DIBDIN. APLAGUE of thofe mufty old lubbers, Who tell us to fast and to think, And patient fall in with life's rubbers, A can of good stuff, had they twigg'd it, The rules of the fchools, The old fools would have all of them swigg'd it, And swore there was nothing like grog. II. My father, when last I from Guinea To drink;-fays Ifather, your health! So I pafs'd round the stuff, and he twigg'd it, And it fet the old codger agog; And he fwigg'd, and mother, And fifter, and brother, And I fwigg'd, and all of us fwigg'd it, And fwore there was nothing like grog. III One day when the chaplain was preaching, And, while he our duty was teaching, And he fwigg'd, and Nick fwigg'd, And I fwigg'd, and all of us fwigg'd it, IV. Then trust me, there's nothing as drinking So pleasant on this fide the grave, It keeps the unhappy from thinking, And makes 'em more valiant, more brave, For me, from the moment I twigg'd it, Wind foully or fairly, I've conftantly, conftantly fwigg'd it; And, d-mn me, there's nothing like grog, |