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GROG.
A plague on these musty old lubbers,
Who tell us to fast and to think,
And with patience fall in with life's rubbers,
With nothing but water to drink;
A cann of good stuff had they twigg'd it,
Would have set them with pleasure a gog,
In spite of the rules
Of the schools,
The old fools
Would all of them swigg'd it,
And swore there was nothing like grog.
Who tell us to fast and to think,
And with patience fall in with life's rubbers,
With nothing but water to drink;
A cann of good stuff had they twigg'd it,
Would have set them with pleasure a gog,
In spite of the rules
Of the schools,
The old fools
Would all of them swigg'd it,
And swore there was nothing like grog.
My father, when last I from Guinea,
Returned with abundance of wealth,
Cried Jack, never be such a ninny
As to drink—says I, Father your health;
So I shew'd him the stuff, and he twigg'd it,
And it set the old cadger agog,
And he swigg'd, and mother
And sister, and brother,
And I swigg'd, and all of us swigg'd it,
And swore there was nothing like grog.
Returned with abundance of wealth,
Cried Jack, never be such a ninny
As to drink—says I, Father your health;
So I shew'd him the stuff, and he twigg'd it,
And it set the old cadger agog,
And he swigg'd, and mother
And sister, and brother,
And I swigg'd, and all of us swigg'd it,
And swore there was nothing like grog.
