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Lyrics of Love and Laughter Hongry, law a' mussy, Hongry as a baih, Seems lak I hyeah dinnah Callin' evahwhaih ; Daih's de hon' a blowin'! Let dat cradle swing, One mo' sweep, den da'kies, Beat me to de spring ! AT THE TAVERN. A LILT and a swing, And a ditty to sing, Or the ever night grow old ; The wine is within, And I'm sure 't were a sin For a soldier to choose to be cold, my dear, For a soldier to choose to be cold. We're right for a spell, But the fever is -- well, No thing to be braved, at least ; 173