Tune.—“Derry Down.”

This night I am trying a picture to draw,
Whom you know very well is a son of the law;
A wonder of wonders, he will not drive the quill,
To injure another, or make a bad will.

To increase a dispute he begs leave to decline,
And will settle such things o’er a glass of good wine;
When ’twas said we soon should be invaded by France,
Oh dear how he made his gay pony quick dance.

I fear ’twould be found he would be in the rear,
If the time was to come that their armies were near;
And was they on Albion’s shore to arrive,
The shock would be such that he could not survive.

As Hudibras says, he this notion retain,
He that quick runs away may perhaps fight again;
On Sundays he brought his brave men to our view,
But some people say they no fighting e’er knew.

Had such been the case I will answer to say,
But those very brave valiants would soon run away;
Give them plumb pudding and plenty of beef,
And alone on the ground would be found the grand Chief.

Show him but a bottle of excellent wine,
And I’d warrant to say he’d the contest decline;
If talking would do he would frighten them all,
But I don’t think he’d like to see powder or ball,

Come whistling near to his brain-pan or heart;
From such trying scenes he would gladly depart;
As a neighbour he’s worthy the village esteem,
May he ne’er want a bottle nor I a good theme.

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