[NLS note: a graphic appears here - see image of page]

       The King ! God bless

                     him.

A goblet of Burgundy fill, fill for me,
Give to those who prefer it Champaign ;
But whatever the wine, it a bumper must be,
If we ne'er drink a bumper again.
Now when the cares of the day are thrown by,
And all man's best feelings possess him,
And the soul lights her beacon of truth in the
eye,
Here's a health to the king ! God bless him.
                              God bless him, &c. &c.

The wealthy of Rome, at their banquets of old,
When to those whom they honour'd they
quaff'd,
Threw pearls of great price in their goblets of
gold,
More costly to render their draught.
I boast not of gems, but my heart's in the glass,
Of its love nought can e'er dispossess him ;
Upstanding, uncovered, round, round let it
pass,
Here's a health to the king ! God bless him.

Hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah !
Upstanding, uncovered, round, round let it pass,
Here's a health to the king ! God bless him.

                                     J. Kendrew, Printer, Co