Song. the Happy Fellow

With my jug in one hand, and my pipe in the other, I'll drink to my neighbour and friend; My cares in a whiff of tobacco I'll smother, Since life I know shortly must end: While Ceres most kindly refills my brown jug, With good ale I will make myself mellow; In my old wicker chair I will seat myself snug, Like a jolly and true hearted fellow.

I'll ne'er trouble my head with the cares of the nation, I've enough of my own for to mind; For the cares of this life are but grief and vexation, To death we must all be consign'd: Then I laugh, drink and smoke, and leave nothing to pay, But drop like a pear that is ripe and mellow; And when cold in my coffin I'll leave them to say, He's gone, what a hearty good fellow.