Of man's first disobedience and the Fruit
Of that FORBIDDEN TREE, whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe:
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I
There was a jolly Cobler
Who lived in Boston Town
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1.
Hail to the joyous day,
On which our Lord was born;
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On the dark margin of this dusky wood,
Where lately Horror nursed her savage brood;
Where the fell Mohawk bade his flames arise,
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For Thee no more shall water Quechee pour
Her Milky Torrent o'er her Rocky Shore.
Dash down the Fall or mount in Mist the Sky
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My Breeches torn, my Coat threadbare,
Go, court Dame Fortune's daughters fair,
Says SAM, and you'll be well drest;
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Hail Reverend Monarch! Hoary Night!
Extend thy ever Blissful reign,
Bid jarring passions cease with Light,
And Peace Lead forth thy jocund Train-
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AND this reft house is that the which he built,
Lamented Jack! and here his malt he piled,
Cautious in vain! these rats that squeak so wild,
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PRAY who lies here? why don't you know,
'Tis stammering, staggering, boozy Joe;
What, dead at last? I thought that death
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By the fierce flames of Love I'm in a sad taking,
I'm singed like a pig that is hung up for bacon,
...