Page 68

Go to! I hate him and his trade:
Who bade us so to cringe and bend,
And all God's peaceful people made
To such as him subservient?

Tell me what find we to admire
In epaulets and scarlet coats--
In men, because they load and fire,
And know the art of cutting throats?

* * * * * *

Ah, gentle, tender lady mine!
The winter wind blows cold and shrill;
Come, fill me one more glass of wine,
And give the silly fools their will.

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