The Pedlar

I AM a jolly gay pedlar, Come here to sell my ware; Yet tho' in all things I'm a meddler, I meddle most with the fair. When I shew my ribbons to Misses, Tho' copper and silver I gain; Yet better I'm pleas'd with the blisses, That I cannot now explain. I am a jolly gay pedlar, &c.

Fools say that this life is but sorrow, And seem disinclin'd to be gay; But why should we think of to-morrow, When we may be happy to-day. I rove round the world for my pleasure, Resolv'd to take nothing amiss; And think my existence a treasure, When blest with the cup and the kiss.

They surely are thick-headed asses, Who know that youth's gone in a crack, Yet will not enjoy, as it passes, The season that never comes back. Let time jog on slower, or quicker, Or whether we're silly, or wise; We shall not be the worse for good liquor, Or the smiles of a girl with black eyes.