THE American Mock-Bird, OR SONGSTER's DELIGHT, SONG XCVI

You tell me, dear Tom like a faint Hearted Toad, You're spris'd I'm so chearful when going abroad, That, for your Part, you'd have, if you were in my Case, A compos'd pensive Mind, and a grave serious Face,

No Doubt, you're a Gentleman prudant and cool, And I can't deny but I've oft play'd the Fool; Yet here I maintain that my System's the best; For a Phiz of Solemnity, Sir, I detest,

I'm always so jocular, happen what will, I scarce seem to know what's good from what's Ill; Yet now you imagine I should be sedate, Since I'm wholly uncertain of what may be my Fate.

But why should Anxiety vex us, my Friend? What the Devil care I how the Sisters intend: If I'm knock'd o' the Head, to new Regions I'll go And be as merry there as I can you well know.