Beneath th' Omniscient Eye above,
The glorious Architect Divine!
That you may keep th' unerring line,
Still rifing by the plummet's law,
Till Order bright completely fhine,
Shall be my pray'r when far awa'.

And You farewell! whofe merits claim,
Juftly, that bigbeft badge to wear!
Heav'n bless your honour'd, noble Name,
To Mafonry and Scotia dear!

A last request permit me here,
When yearly ye assemble a',
One round, I afk it with a tear,
To him, the Bard that's far awa’.

SONG.

SONG.

Tune,-Prepare, my dear brethren, to the ta vern let's fly, &c.

I.

No Churchman am I for to rail and to

write,

No Statesman nor Soldier to plot or to fight, No fly Man of business contriving a fnare,

For a big-belly'd bottle's the whole of my

care.

II.

II.

The Peer I don't envy, I give him his bow;
I fcorn not the peasant, tho' ever so low;
But a club of good fellows, like those that are
here,

And a bottle like this, are my glory and

care.

III.

Here paffes the Squire on his brother-his horfe;

There Centum per Centum, the Cit with his

purfe;

But fee you the Crown how it waves in the

air,

There a big-belly'd bottle ftill eafes my care.

IV.

IV.

The wife of my bofom, alas! she did die ;
For fweet confolation to church I did fly;
I found that old Solomon proved it fair,
That a big-belly'd bottle's a cure for all care.

V.

I once was perfuaded a venture to make;
A letter inform'd me that all was to wreck;
But the purfy old landlord just waddled up
ftairs,

With a glorious bottle that ended my cares.

VI.

'Life's cares they are comforts *'-a maxim

laid down

Young's Night Thoughts.

By

By the Bard, what d'ye call him, that wore

the black gown;

And faith I agree with th' old prig to a hair; For a big-belly'd bottle's a heav'n of care.

A Stanza added in a Mafon Lodge.

Then fill up a bumper and make it o'erflow, And honours masonic prepare for to throw; May every true brother of th' Compass and Square

Have a big-belly'd bottle when harafs'd with

care.

+

WRITTEN