ST. NICHOLAS' GREAT BELL.
Reading edition
Oh, have you seen the mighty bell, That none in England can excel,— The Tom of Lincoln's but a shell To the great bell of Saint Nicholas. Oh, such rare things ne'er was before— To hear it strike eight miles, or more, To wake the workmen, when they snore— Ay, this great bell of Saint Nicholas.
(Spoken)—I say, Patrick, have you been after seeing the great bell that's just gone up to that great lump of a Protestant church?—A big bell, do they call it? by the saints, I thought it was an extinguisher for the light at its ugly mug—A great bell, indeed; by the powers! you know yourself it's only like a skull-cap to my great grandmother's praty pot, that she used to boil kail-cannon in at the harvest.—You are right, Patrick, but still we'll
Drink success to this bell—ding, dong— That'll wake the folks in country and town, And their maids to milk their cows in the morn, The great bell of Saint Nicholas. Lord, how the people they did run, When they heard the small bells ring like fun, Shouting, there's something to be done At the old church of Saint Nicholas. The shopkeepers out of their doors did stare At such a thing, so great and rare, And the flags were waving in the air, O'er the great bell of Saint Nicholas.
(Spoken.)—Well, I suppose they will christen it—Hout, man, they christened it yesterday at the foundery, down at Hawks'.—Well, then, they'll have to consecrate it now.—Ay, horses and all—What! consecrate horses, you foolish man! Ay, then they'll be most fit for hearses and mourning coaches.
Drink success to this bell, &c. And after all the noisy storm, We've liv'd to see real church reform— Six horses standing snug and warm, In the old church of Saint Nicholas. You should have been at the church, To have seen the horses in the porch,— The devil will say—I'm in the lurch, No use for me at Saint Nicholas.
(Spoken.)—I say, Geordy, did you ever see such a great thing as that before?—Where is it gan' te?—Why, to the church; it's the great bell that was bequeathed by Major Anderson, to flay away the rooks and craws frae the town—to hinder them from building either on churches or exchanges. Ay, ay, but I think it wad ha'e been far better if they'd myed it to flay away poverty frae wor doors, and cast it as a boiler for soup. What say you, Geordy?—It wad, as ye say—but I'll
Drink success, &c. A drunken cobbler made a vow, In the Major he would make a shoe,— And he work'd away till all was blue In the great bell of Saint Nicholas. The shoe being made, to the man of leather The people cried—Well done! O clever,— You should have a grant to work for ever In the great bell of Saint Nicholas. Drink success to this bell, &c.