Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, HEALTH TO LORD MELVILLE, by WALTER SCOTT


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

HEALTH TO LORD MELVILLE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Since here we are set in array round the table
Last Line: And drink melville for ever, as long as we live!
Subject(s): Dudas, Henry. 1st Viscount Melville


SINCE here we are set in array round the table,
Five hundred good fellows well met in a hall,
Come listen, brave boys, and I'll sing as I'm able
How innocence triumph'd and pride got a fall.
But push round the claret --
Come, stewards, don't spare it --
With rapture you'll drink to the toast that I give;
Here, boys,
Off with it merrily --

Melville for ever, and long may he live!
What were the Whigs doing, when boldly pursuing,
Pitt banish'd Rebellion, gave Treason a string?
Why, they swore on their honour, for Arthur O'Connor,
And fought hard for Despard against country and king.
Well, then, we knew boys,
Pitt and Melville were true boys,
And the tempest was raised by the friends of Reform.
Ah, woe!
Weep to his memory;
Low lies the pilot that weather'd the storm!

And pray, don't you mind when the Blues first were raising,
And we scarcely could think the house safe o'er our heads?
When villains and coxcombs, French politics praising,
Drove peace from our tables and sleep from our beds?
Our hearts they grew bolder
When, musket on shoulder,
Stepp'd forth our old Statesmen example to give.
Come, boys, never fear,
Drink the Blue grenadier --
Here's to old Harry, and long may he live!

They would turn us adrift; though rely, sir, upon it --
Our own faithful chronicles warrant us that
The free mountaineer and his bonny blue bonnet
Have oft gone as far as the regular's hat.
We laugh at their taunting,
For all we are wanting
Islicence our life for our country to give.
Off with it merrily,
Horse, foot, and artillery,
Each loyal Volunteer, long may he live!
'Tis not us alone, boys -- the Army and Navy
Have each got a slap 'mid their politic pranks;
Cornwallis cashier'd, that watch'd winters to save ye,
And the Cape call'd a bauble, unworthy of thanks.
But vain is their taunt,
No soldier shall want
The thanks that his country to valour can give:
Come, boys,
Drink it off merrily, --
Sir David and Popham, and long may they live!

And then our revenue -- Lord knows how they view'd it,
While each petty statesman talk'd lofty and big;
But the beer-tax was weak, as if Whitbread had brew'd it,
And the pig-iron duty a shame to a pig.
In vain is their vaunting,
Too surely there's wanting
What judgment, experience, and steadiness give:
Come, boys,
Drink about merrily, --
Health to sage Melville, and long may he live!

Our King, too -- our Princess -- I dare not say more, sir, --
May Providence watch them with mercy and might!
While there's one Scottish hand that can wag a claymore, sir,
They shall ne'er want a friend to stand up for their right.
Be damn'd he that dare not, --
For my part, I'll spare not
To beauty afficted a tribute to give:
Fill it up steadily,
Drink it off readily, --
Here's to the Princess, and long may she live!

And since we must not set Auld Reekie in glory,
And make her brown visage as light as her heart;
Till each man illumine his own upper story,
Nor law-book nor lawyer shall force us to part.
In Grenville and Spencer,
And some few good men, sir,
High talents we honour, slight difference forgive;
But the Brewer we'll hoax,
Tallyho to the Fox,
And drink Melville for ever, as long as we live!





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