And see my little Jessy, first of all;

She comes with pouting lips and sparkling eyes: Behold, how roguishly she pins her shawl

Across the narrow casement, curtain-wise; Now by the bed her petticoat glides down,

And when did woman look the worse in none? I have heard since who paid for many a gown, In the brave days when I was twenty-one.

One jolly evening, when my friends and I
Made happy music with our songs and cheers,
A shout of triumph mounted up thus high,
And distant cannon opened on our ears:
We rise, we join in the triumphant strain,-
Napoleon conquers-Austerlitz is won-
Tyrants shall never tread us down again,
In the brave days when I was twenty-one.

Let us begone-the place is sad and strange-
How far, far off, these happy times appear;
All that I have to live I'd gladly change

For one such month as I have wasted here-
To draw long dreams of beauty, love, and power,
From founts of hope that never will outrun,
And drink all life's quintessence in an hour,
Give me the days when I was twenty-one.

Vous pauvres, pleins d'envie,

Vous riches, désireux,

Vous, dont le char dévie

Après un cours heureux;

Vous, qui perdrez peut-être
Des titres éclatans,

Eh, gai! prenez pour maitre
Le gros Roger-Bontemps.

W

HEN fierce political debate

Throughout the isle was storming,

And Rads attacked the throne and state, And Tories the reforming,

To calm the furious rage of each,

And right the land demented, Heaven send us Jolly Jack, to teach The way to be contented.