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   Chapter 172 SOLDIER'S SONG

The Lady of the Lake By Walter Scott Characters: 942

Updated: 2017-12-01 00:03


90 Our vicar still preaches that Peter and Poule

Laid a swinging long curse on the bonny brown bowl,

That there's wrath and despair in the jolly black-jack,note

And the seven deadly sins in a flagon of sack;

Yet whoop, Barnaby! off with thy liquor,

95 Drink upsees out, and a fig for the vicar!note

Our vicar he calls it damnation to sip

The ripe ruddy dew of a woman's dear lip,

Says, that Beelzebub lurks in her kerchief so sly,

And Apollyon

shoots darts from her merry black eye;

100 Yet whoop, Jack! kiss Gillian the quicker,

Till she bloom like a rose, and a fig for the vicar!

Our vicar thus preaches-and why should he not?

For the dues of his cure are the placket and pot;note

And 'tis right of his office poor laymen to lurch,note

105 Who infringe the domains of our good Mother Church.

Yet whoop, bully-boys! off with your liquor,

Sweet Marjorie's the word, and a fig for the Vicar!

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