e were half seas over;
I don't mean tipsy, bless you, no!
But when we pass'd, like dart from bow,
Cowes Roads on board the Rover.

So pipe all hands; for though no gale
From sea-wash'd shores distend our sail,
We'll man a vessel here.
This room's our ship; this wine's our tide;
And the good friends we sit beside,
The messmates of our cheer.

Ay, this looks well; now till the glass
To king, to country, and our lass,
And all of pluck and feather;
That done around, and nothing loth,
Since we are "learned Thebans" both,

We'll have some talk together.
You've been to Cheltenham, I find,
And, zounds! you really ride the wind,
To Bath and Worcester too;
To South'ton and the Isle of Wight,
As if increase of appetite
With every new dish grew.

~239

But it was really _infra dig_.
Spite of your old horse and new gig,
You did not, some fine morn,
Drive up to Malcolm Ghur, d'ye see,{4}
And leave two pretty cards for me
And Sir John Barleycorn.

We would have been your chorus, sir,
Or, an' you pleased, your trumpeter,
And _lioned_ you about;
Have shown you every pretty girl,
And every _nouvelle_ quadrille twirl,
And every crowded rout.

At eight o' morns have call'd you down,
(What would they say of that in town?)
To swallow pump-room water;
At eight o' nights have call'd you up,
(Our grandams used just then to sup),
To 'gin the dinner slaughter.

Have whisk'd you o'er to Colonel B's,
Or drove you up to Captain P's,
Dons unto Cheltenham steady.
But I forget the world, good lack,
Have play'd enough with such a pack
Of great court-cards already.

4 Malcolm Ghur, one of the very prettiest of the many pretty
newly-erected mansions that give a character to the environs
of Cheltenham. To its proprietor do I owe much for
hospitality; a merrier man, withal, dwells not in my
remembrance; he is of your first-rate whist players, though
he rarely now joins in the game. As the chaplain of the
county-lodge of F. M. he is much distinguished; and,