Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/363

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HOW STANDS THE GLASS AROUND.
345
"Butt yf this happ doe still indure—Inglande att lengthe will growe full poore,
Therefore, good Kinge, graunt them no more—for it afflicts thy subjects sore.
               Yf this be trewe—by Sweet St. Ann,
               Joky will be noe Gentillman."

How Stands the Glass Around?

It is said that this song was sung by General Wolfe, the night before the battle of Quebec.

   How stands the glass around?
For shame, ye take no care, by boys!
   How stands the glass around?
   Let mirth and wine abound!
   The trumpets sound,
The colours flying are, my boys,
   To fight, fill, or wound;
   May we still be found
Content with our hard fare, my boys,
   On the cold ground!

   Why, soldiers, why
Should we be melancholy, boys?
   Why, soldiers, why,
   Whose business 'tis to die?
   What, sighing? fie!
Shun fear, drink on, be jolly, boys!
   'Tis he, you, or I,
   Cold, hot, wet, or dry,
We're always bound to follow, boys,
   And scorn to fly.

   'Tis but in vain
(I mean not to upbraid you, boys),
   'Tis but in vain
   For soldiers to complain;
   Should next campaign
Send us to Him that made us, boys,
   We're free from pain;
   But should we remain,
A bottle and kind landlady
   Cures all again.

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