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44
[Quench, quench, in sprighty wine your griefe]
Quench, quench, in sprighty wine your griefe,
'Tis true Promethean fire,
Such as gives sad souls relief,
Chears & strengthens quick desire.
'Tis true Promethean fire,
Such as gives sad souls relief,
Chears & strengthens quick desire.
Let's sup then, our cup then, till the world flye round about
As the glass & the flame from our eye,
Strike new day from the sky,
'Tis wine must give us Immortality
As the glass & the flame from our eye,
Strike new day from the sky,
'Tis wine must give us Immortality
No matter though through fields of bloud
The Souldier 'gainst his foe doe swim;
If when he hath past that floud,
His cup doth flow up to the brim.
The Souldier 'gainst his foe doe swim;
If when he hath past that floud,
His cup doth flow up to the brim.
Let's sup then, &c.
FINIS.
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