st his strength to faintness worn,
Poor Reynard ceases flight;
Then hungry, homeward we return,
To feast away the night.
And a drinking we do go.

Ye jovial hunters, in the morn
Prepare then for the chase;
Rise at the sounding of the horn
And health with sport embrace.
When a hunting we do go.

_Henry Fielding_.

HEARTS OF OAK.

Come, cheer up, my lads!
'tis to glory we steer,
To add something more
to this wonderful year:
To honour we call you,
not press you like slaves:
For who are so free
as the sons of the waves?
Hearts of oak are our ships,
Gallant tars are our men;
We always are ready:
Steady, boys, steady!
We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.

We ne'er see our foes
but we wish them to stay;
They never see us but
they wish us away;
If they run, why, we follow,
or run them ashore;
For if they won't fight us,
we cannot do more.
Hearts of oak, etc.

Britannia triumphant,
her ships sweep the sea;
Her standard is Justice--
her watchword, "Be free!"
Then cheer up, my lads!
with one heart let us sing,
"Our soldiers, our sailors,
our statesmen, and king."
Hearts of oak, etc.

_David Garrick_.

THE FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN.

I'll sing you a good old song,
Made by a good old pate,
Of a fine old English gentleman,
Who had an old estate;
And who kept up his old mansion
At a bountiful old rate,
With a good old porter to relieve
The old poor at his gate--
Like a fine old English gentleman,
All of the olden time.

His hall so old was hung around
With pikes, and guns, and bows,
And swords and good old bucklers
That had stood against old foes;
'Twas there "his worship" sat in state,
In doublet and trunk hose,
And quaff'd his cup of good old sack
To warm his good old nose--
Like a fine old English gentleman,
All of the olden time.

When winter's cold brought frost and snow,
He open'd his house to all;
And though three-score and ten his years,
He featly led the ball.
Nor was the houseless wanderer
E'er driven from his hall;
For while he feasted all the great,
He ne'er forgot the small--
Like a fine old English gentleman,
All of the olden time.

But time, though sweet, is strong in flight,
And years roll swiftly by;
And autumn's falling leaves proclaim'd