Songs, Song

Assembled and tyl'd, let us social agree, With the monarch that sits on the threne, For he charges a glass, and round let it pass, To celebrate ancient St. John.

Tho' babblers may prattle in shewing their spleen, Their spite we compare to the drone, The world is in pain our secrets to gain, In ignorance let them think on, For in sweet harmony, in love we'll agree. To celebrate ancient St. John.

We'll charge, and we'll toast the great WASHINGTON; We'll remember the wise Solomon, For his actions were rare, by the compass and square, Thus celebrate ancient St. John.

Then join hand in hand, in a body firm stand, Our cares and our troubles be gone, We'll unite, sing, and laugh, love the ladies, and quaff; Thus celebrate ancient St. John.