thing that pertains to the great salt sea, with all the ships, and the waves roaring, and all that; and whenever I sees a good heart of oak seated at an alehouse door with his glass in his hand, my heart always turns to him, an there should be a hundred men besides. Give us a song, man.
Sailer. That I will. Hang me if thou does'n't deserve to feed upon biscuit.
SONG.
Merry mantling social bowl,
Many a cheerful kindly soul
Fills his glass from thee:
Healths go round, care is drown'd,
Every heart with lighter bound
Gen'rous feels and free.
Cann and beaker by thy side,
May'st thou oft' in flowing pride
Thus surrounded be:
And shame befal the narrow mind,
That to a messmate proves unkind,
Who once hath fill'd his glass from thee!
Whate'er our state, where'er we meet,
We'll still with kindly welcome greet
The mate of former jollity:
Far distant, in a foreign land,
We'll give to all a brother's hand
That e'er have filled their glass from thee.
