From Davidson's Universal Melodist, Vol. 1 (London: G. H. Davidson, 1853), page 426:


THE JUG OF PUNCH
Sung by Mrs. Fitzwilliam, in Buckstone's drama of the "Green Bushes."

1. As I was sitting in my room,
One pleasant ev'ning in the month of June,
I heard a thrush singing in a bush,
And the tune he sang was a jug o' punch.
Tooraloo, tooraloo, tooraloo, tooraloo,
A jug o' punch, a jug o' punch,
And the tune he sang was a jug o' punch.

2. What more divarshin might a man desire,
Than to be sated by a nate turf fire;
And by his side a purty wench,
And on the table a jug o' punch?
Tooraloo, tooraloo, &c.

3. The Muses twelve, and Appollio fam'd
In Castilian pride drinks pernicious sthrames;
But I would not grudge them tin times as much,
As long as I had a jug o' punch.
Tooraloo, tooraloo, &c.

4. Then the mortial gods drinks their nectar wine,
And they tell me claret is very fine;
But I'd give them all, just in a bunch,
For a jolly pull at a jug o' punch.
Tooraloo, tooraloo, &c.

5. The doctor fails, with all his art,
To cure an impression on the heart;
But if life was gone, within an inch,
What would bring it back like a jug o' punch?
Tooraloo, tooraloo, &c.

6. But when I'm dead, and in my grave,
No costly tombstone will I ever crave;
But I'll dig a grave, both wide and deep,
With a jug o' punch at my head and feet.
Tooraloo, tooraloo, &c.