SONG LII. On the Act against Titles of Honour.
1
Draw the Wine!
Fill the Bowle!
Ne're repine!
Or Condole!
At the Usage, the States, lay upon us!
Though they Trample us down,
Under foot, from a Crown,
If we, but hold up
For a plentiful Cup,
Wee'l forgive, all the mischief, th'ave done
Let our Honours,
And our Mannours,
Be confiscate, to their Powers;
If we Sack,
May not Lack,
The whole World shall be Ours:
And while their kindness, this fair Boon, affords,
Though we cannot spend, wee'l be as drunk as Lords.
2
Then about
Give the Glasse!
Suck it out!
Let it passe!
And who Tipples, as long, as He's able,
Though He's shrunk, from Sr. John,
To Poor Jack, all is One;
Let's Lady, take snuff,
If he drink, but Enough,
We'le install him Kt. of the Round Table:
Other Titles,
Are but Trifles,
Not deserving our Thinking,
Hence wee'l make,
Lawes, to take
Our Degrees, from Good Drinking:
Honour's a Pageant, we disclaim the Thing,
Who'd be a Knight, where Charles is not a King?
3
Drink away!
Have at all!
While we stay,
Let us call,
And, as Lilburn would have us, be freemen,
And who Tope out their Time,
Till the Midnight shall Chyme,
Their Mistresses, They
Shall be Ladies of the May,
And Themselves, of the Bottles, the Yeomen
The Commanders,
That were Ranters,
Shall Commence, now, to be Hector
And be still
As Gentile
As the Kingdom's Protector's
And bear, (dispight of States, or Herald Rules)
Ith' Pockets, Argent, in their Faces, Gules.
