Was content with what fell to his share.
Lord John went to races, to balls and to routs,
And squandered his wealth with the gay,
Till at last came the reaper, and sought them both out,
And took Lord John and John Lord away.
Now, it seems very strange, &c.

Very soon a grand monument stood o'er Lord John,
To show where the great man was laid,
But over John Lord was no mark and no stone,
It was left as when left by the spade.
But the time yet shall come when John Lord and Lord John
Shall meet in the realms far away,
When the riches and titles of earth are all gone,
Then which will be greatest, friends, say?
Then, though it seems strange, yet it's true what you've heard,
And a lesson throughout it is cast,
Which should comfort the poor working men like John Lord,
For we all shall be equal at last.

As sooin as he'd finished quaverin on th' last noat but one, ther wor
sich a knockin o' glasses an' thump in o' fists, wol th' lonlady coom in
agean, an' th' cheerman felt it his duty to order "as befoor," which
order th' lonlady worn't long i' executin. "Gooid lad! Cocky!" sed Ike,
"if aw'd a voice like thee aw'd travel! Tawk abaat Sims Reeves! He
niver sang a song like that sin he wor creddled! Nah Maister Cheerman,
keep up th' harmony, we're mendin on it aw'm sure. 'Gow, aw'll have
another pipe o' bacca o' th' heead on it' nay, raylee, aw niver did hear
sich a song," savin which he sat daan an' hid his astonishment behund a
claad o' reek.

"Well," sed th' cheerman, "as Ike seems soa anxious, aw think he'd
better try an' let's see what he con do." "Hear, hear!" on all sides,
an' two or three pulled him up whether he wod or net, an' after a gooid
deal o' sidelin abaat, he axed if he mud have his cap on, for he could
niver sing withaat cap. "That's to keep th' mewsic throo flyin aght
o'th' top ov his heead," sed one. "Order!" sed th' cheerman, "if Ike
wants his cap on let him have it, may be he'll loise th' air withaat
it."

Ike luk'd very solid for a minit, an' then he struck a lively tune in a
voice abaat as musical as a saw sharpener.

Let us have a jolly spree,
An' wi' joy an' harmonie,
Let the merry moments flee,
For mi love's come back.
O, the days did slowly pass,
When aw'd lost mi little lass,
But nah we'll have a glass,
For mi love's come back.

O, shoo left me in a hig,