AND ANGLING SONGS. 335 



A CRUEL DRINKING-SONG. 



DEATH ! death to the bald-headsno quarter ! 



The rogues, they shall taste of our steel ; 

 We '11 give each a turn of the torture, 



And lay him agape in the creel. 



n. 



Drink death to the bald-heads ! Why spare them 



To revel in plunder and gore 1 

 Forbearance to plead, we can dare them, 



So replenish the goblet once more. 



in. 



Our wands to good fortune they guide us, 

 Meanwhile bear the cup to the mouth ; 



Let the break of grey twilight decide us, 

 And winds wand'ring soft from the south. 



IV. 



We anglers should quaff and be jolly, 

 Ere the time to be doing draws nigh, 



Short season will sleep away folly, 

 And we '11 up with the lark by and by. 



v. 



Drink death to the bald-heads no quarter ! 



Why spare the sly rogues of the brook 1 

 We '11 give each a turn of the torture 



Drink success to the wand and the hook ! 



