Old Oak Table, The

From Thomas Hudson's 4th Collection of Comic Songs (1822) 
TUNE- The Last Shilling

I had knock'd out the dust from my pipe t'other night.
Old Time towards midnight was creeping ;
Th' last smoke from its ashes had taken its flight,
I felt neither waking nor sleeping.
A voice, loud and hollow, and seemingly near
(You'll say 'tis a dream or a fable,)
Directed towards me, said audibly clear,
"List, list, list to me, thy oak table.
 
"I was once of the forest the monarch so bold,
Nor tempest nor storm made me tremble;
And oft, yery oft, the fam'd Druids of old
Would under my branches assemble:
Their mysterious rites they'd perform before me;
Those rites to unfold I am able;
But be that now forgot — I was then an oak tree, 
And now I am but an oak table."

"But the axe brought me down, and soon lopp'd was each bough
When I to a ship was converted;
Mann'd by true hearts of oak, the wide ocean to plough,
And by victory never deserted.
But worn out by time, and reduc'd to a wreck
Bereft of my anchor and cable;
A carpenter bought, and with part of my deck
Made what you see now — an oak table."

"Now thrust in a corner— put out of the way,
(But I fear I your patience am tiring,)
I expect nothing less than, some forthcoming day,
To be broke up and used for your firing."
"No, never!" cried I, as I started awake,
"I'll keep thee as long as I'm able.
And each friend that my humble cheer will partake,
Shall be welcome around my oak table."