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8
THE MIDNIGHT BOWL
Care thou canker of our joys,
Now thy tyrant reign is o'er;
Fill the merry bowl my boys,
Join in Bacchanalian roar.
O'er the merry midnight bowl,
O how happy will we be!
Day was made for vulgar souls
Night my Boys, for you and me.
Seize the villain, plunge him in
See! the hated miscreant dies,
Mirth, with all thy train come in,
Banish sorrow, tears, and sighs.
FINIS.
