Song CXXII. the Hum

Push about the brisk Bowl, 'twill enliver the heart, While thus we sit round on the—Stay! What business have I an old Song to impart, When I, Sirs, a new one can say, can say, When I, Sirs, a new one can say

What shall I first say, or what shall I first do? What best will my bad voice become? Why faith, Sirs, I'll strive by my verses to shew, That Life is, alas! but a Hum.

Children weep at their birth, and old men who they dye, At Death the most happy look glum; At our Entrance and Exit we equally cry, Which proves our Life's plainly a Hum.

Law and Physic you see will make sure of the fee, What advice to you gratis will come; If poor, you are lost, tho' merit you boast, For Worth without Wealth is a Hum.

Acquaintance pretend that your fortunes they'll mend, And vow to your service they'll come; But be you in need, and you'll find that indeed, Modern Friendship is merely a Hum.

When some Ladies kneel, small devotion they feel (But let us be modest and mum) At the altar they bow, but 'tis only for shew, Religion with them is a Hum.

We are hum'd from our birth, till we're hum'd into earth, To an end of our jokes then we come: Take your Glass my brisk brother, and I'll take another, And thus make the most of a Hum, a Hum, And let's make the most of a Hum.