His heart with sudden joy is filled,

His ears are by the music thrilled,

His eyes take pleasure in the road
Glittering before him bright and broad;

And Benjamin is wet and cold,

And there are reasons manifold

That make the good, tow'rds which he's yearning,

Look fairly like a lawful earning.

Nor has thought time to come and go,

To vibrate between yes

and

no;

"For," cries the Sailor, "Glorious chance

That blew us hither! Let him dance

Who can or will;

my honest Soul,

Our treat shall be a friendly Bowl!"
He draws him to the door-" Come in,

Come, come," cries he to Benjamin ;

"Blithe souls and lightsome hearts have we, Feasting at the CHERRY TREE!"

This was the outside proclamation,

This was the inside salutation;

What bustling-jostling — high and low!

A universal overflow !

What tankards foaming from the tap!
What store of cakes in every lap!
What thumping-stumping-over-head!
The thunder had not been more busy :
With such a stir, you would have said,
This little place may well be dizzy!
'Tis who can dance with greatest vigour -
"Tis what can be most prompt and eager ;
As if it heard the fiddle's call,
The pewter clatters on the wall;
The very bacon shows its feeling,
Swinging from the smoky ceiling!

A steaming Bowl-a blazing fire-
What greater good can heart desire?
"Twere worth a wise man's while to try
The utmost anger of the sky;

To seek for thoughts of painful cast,
If such be the amends at last.

Now, should you think I judge amiss,
The CHERRY TREE shows proof of this;
For soon, of all the happy there,

Our Travellers are the happiest pair.
All care with Benjamin is gone

A Cæsar past the Rubicon!

He thinks not of his long, long strife ;The Sailor, Man by nature gay,

Hath no resolves to throw away;

And he hath now forgot his Wife,

Hath quite forgotten her- or may be

Deems that she is happier, laid

Within that warm and peaceful bed;

Under cover,

Terror over,

Sleeping by her sleeping Baby.

With bowl in hand,

(It may not stand)

Gladdest of the gladsome band,

Amid their own delight and fun,

The fiddle's

*
squeak that call to bliss,

Ever followed by a kiss;

They envy not the happy lot,

But enjoy their own the more!

While thus our jocund Travellers fare,
Up springs the Sailor from his chair
Limps (for I might have told before
That he was lame) across the floor
Is gone-returns- and with a prize;
With what? a Ship of lusty size;
A gallant stately Man of War,
Fixed on a smoothly-sliding car.
Surprise to all, but most surprise
To Benjamin, who rubs his eyes,
Not knowing that he had befriended
A Man so gloriously attended!

"This," cries the Sailor, ""

a Third-rate is

Stand back and you shall see her gratis!

* At the close of each strathspey, or jig, a particular note from the fiddle summons the Rustic to the agreeable duty of saluting his Partner.

This was the Flag-Ship at the Nile,

The Vanguard you may smirk and smile,

But, pretty maid, if you look near,

You'll find you've much in little here!
A nobler Ship did never swim,

And you shall see her in full trim;

I'll set, my Friends, to do you honour, inch of sail upon her."

Set every

So said, so done; and masts, sails, yards,
He names them all; and interlards

His speech with uncouth terms of art,
Accomplished in the Showman's part;
And then, as from a sudden check,

Cries out "'Tis there, the Quarter-deck

On which brave Admiral Nelson stood

A sight that would have roused your blood!
One eye he had, which, bright as ten,
Burnt like a fire among his men ;

Let this be Land, and that be Sea,

Here lay the French and thus came we !"

Hushed was by this the fiddle's sound, The Dancers all were gathered round,