University of Virginia Library

Well! how goes the Glass!
Let's see! has he done it!
So so; let it pass!
He's next who begun it!
Twas I, that swallowd the first, I
Let's not Drink to halves,
Like Waltham's Calves,
And home, agen, turn, a thirsty.
Ralph! prime him a bowle
Happy man! be his dole!
Here's soveraign Sack,
For the brains, and the back,
Tis good, for the gentle and simple,
'Tis not, for nought,
(As, the Wiser, have thought)
That the Devil's, so near the Temple:
Twas this (in a word)
Made, the Cobler, a Lord
Till, relaps'd, to bewitched water,
In an ill time (then)
Recobler'd agen,
VVas, never, his own man, after:
Our Soul, is a Salt,
(As Philosopher's call't,)
But given, to keep us, from stinking,
But Nature had (sure)
Other end, to procure
A Thirst, for to further, our Drinking!
Then, why does this Blade,
Drink, so like a Maid!
While he thinks, no body does mind him
Yet, daily he Views
The Danger, accrew',
By leaving the Liquour behind him:
This youth, suites me best,
Who, would, ne're, let it rest,
Ill Conscience like, were the Bowle his,
But sucks like a Man,
With a Throat, like a Crane,
And wracks down his Body, a whole Piece.
Say! what pleasure is't,
For to supply the Twist
Of a Quean? he's Fool, that will ask it.
The Plow-man, is sound,
While he's Tearing the Ground,
And busi'd, in Pinning the Basket.

Cho.

It is Wine
That's Divine
Must refine
Our dull Souls,
There's no Mirth,
In the Earth,
Where's a Dearth!
Of the Bowls.