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For the lasses he's ever a greeting and smile,
And to see a sweet face hell go many a mile:
Towards them he lets no distinction appear,
If it's dairymaid Nell or my Lady De Vere.

I grant yon he's done some odd things in his time,
Which would sound very drolly if hitched into rhyme:
Folks can him eccentric, bat all win admit
His heart is quite sound though they question his wit.

Then here's to the Parson, and may he live long
To cheer us with mirthful discoursing and song;
May his ridicule long gall the puritan gang,
And as for his enemies let them go hang!

ENCORE VERSES

Since with kindly applause you this ditty receive,
I'll sing you a verse or two more, by your leave,
For such a good subject but seldom is found,
In whom wit, mirth and learning so greatly abound.

He's a right down good fellow, as I have made dear,
And I wish that we had him in company here,
For the night then would spin on with laughter and song,
And we unto morn should our revels prolong.

Then let's chorus "A jolly good fellow is he"
(A better you'll go a month's march ere you see;)
And wind up with hip! hip! hurrah! three times o'er—
And now I'll leave off, or you'll think me a bore.

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