The Joys of Sleighing

Of all the fine things that the gay celebrate, And the many odd fancies that come from each pate, Sure its matter of wonder that none e'er resound The circle of joys that in sleighing abound.

There are some who in pheaton glory to roll, Whilst others in chariots expand the whole soul, To bestride prancing horses full many may please; But the pleasures of sleighing are greater than these.

Musidora, Miss Mira, and all the gay throng In exchange for a sleighing will give you a song; They will leave a dear ball, concerto or play, And vow that no music's as sweet as a sleigh.

Then strike a bold stroke, gain their hearts while you can; The greater galant, the more favourite man. 'Tis not whining nor pining that carries the day: So away with such nonesense, and out with the sleigh!