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The battle—that with horror grim,
“ If you loves I as I loves you,
“ If you loves I as I loves you, ,
SIR JOHN BARLEYCORN.
The Barleycorns throughout our isle
Are a numerous family,
Their fame my theme shall be.
But of that branch I tell alone,
Which in a village fair,
By all the dwellers there.
John Barleycorn, of whom I speak,
A servant long had been,
He e'er got drunk with him.
The Clergyman, the Justice too,
As well I understand, Familiarly, John was so true,
Would take him by the hand.
Plump in his make, in russet coat,
And what but strange appear'd, When of ripe age, you well might note
He wore a long stiff beard.
John's master said he was so pleas'd
With services so rare,
He should his substance share.
Ten acres of new-broken land
He did assign him then,
His horses, carts and men.
In this new situation John
Began to thrive amain, A num'rous family anon
The land did well maintain.
The sun, the wind, the rain and dew,
All seem'd as for them giv'n, And, while in health and strength they grew,
They rais'd their heads to Heav'n.
Meanwhile his master, still intent
To serve and do him good,
To say how matters stood.
The village all, with joy elate
To see John once more come, Repair'd th' event to celebrate,
And, shouting, brought him home.
Here John, beneath his master's eye,
Secure and happy dwelt,
But all his virtues felt.
13 The richest ears have still their straw,
Its chaff the fairest grain, With chastening hand he'd vice withdraw,
And virtue would retain.
Thenceforth was John a better wight,
Of greater worth confest ;
His neighbours said well drest.
At length a flood assail'd good John,
For two long nights and days, No harm it did, he thriv’d thereon,
This truth th' Exciseman says.
Without a figure I would say,
That John was fairly steep'd, And a warm man he grew, but lay
Longer, and soundly slept.
But this indulgence, it is said,
From sloth did not arise, “Early at morn, early to bed"
His maxim was most wise.
Another truth is, as I've heard,
Tho' John was highly tax'd,
Nor 's loyalty relax'd.
A fire, then, both fierce and strong,
In threat'ning aspect rose, But, timely quench'd, there nought was wrong,
It sweeten'd his repose