When first the day-star gems the sky, When flickering swallows upward fly; While shrill the matin-herald crows, And thrifty Joan to spin hath rose, Then only, brave boys, it is day! II. Our cup let's drink, we will not slink, We leave to those, who wish, to think! Can't ye stand, while the world rolls round? Then, merry blades, sprawl on the ground! And drink on, brave boys, until day! III. Who joins not in our jovial bout, Drink, meat, and fire, should do without; Soon let this stout _magnum_ be quaffed, He says nay, shall surely be laughed. Then only, brave boys, it will be day! IV. The dawn hath past, the sun at last Round our revels his beams has cast; Yet ere we go a parting glass, Our toast a sprightly, buxom lass. My brave boys only now it is day! Only now, my brave boys, it is day! Squire Kiltipper, somewhat pleased, sung a semi-stave of the song:-- "Can't ye stand, while the world rolls round? Then, merry blades, sprawl on the ground! Ha, ha, ha! A very plain and palpable alternative truly, the drunkard fairly caught on the horns of the mathematician's dire dilemma, and then to flounder on the floor--ha, ha! Oh, lame and lamentable conclusion! Come lads, the health of the composer; hip, hip,--hurrah!" This toast drank at mid-noon, however strange to tell, was loudly chorussed, with various manual accompaniments inflicted on the table, until the window panes and the very drinking-glasses again returned the echo; and amid this uproar the door was opened, and the visitors introduced, their names being duly announced. Squire Kiltipper was discovered seated in his bed, holding in his hand the MS. of the precious rant which had just been sung; he wore spectacles; his dark beard was unshorn; he wore on his head a cap made of otter skin; he was habited in a scarlet waistcoat trimmed with rabbit skin, over which he wore a dressing-gown of purple camlet; his small clothes, which had been once white, but now stained with claret, reminded one rudely of the union of the rival roses of York and Lancaster! The Squire arose to receive his guests, but was preceded by his prime minister, Bounce, his favourite greyhound, who had been also snugly reposing under cover of the counterpane, which now rising to a portentous height, he and his master were safely delivered from the thraldom of the bed-clothes, and the Squire politely advancing, paid obeisance to his visitors, and invited them to luncheon.