 | Poems Lyrique Macaronique Heroique |  |
Mock SONG LXIX.
Full Forty times over, &c
[Just twenty times over, and twenty to that]
1
Just twenty times over, and twenty to that,I musing, have wondred, what 'twas you'd be at,
Whilst you pine, and look pale, like your Liquor that's flat;
For he's a cold Drinker,
Who now becomes Thinker,
Since thus runs the play
If you sit up all night, you are Ready next Day.
2
There's a pipe, lately Broacht, which would not be shut,With Legions of Bottles prepar'd, for the Gut.
If you give but your minde to't, you'l swallow a Butt:
Then stand not so dully,
But laver your Gully
With Beer Bowle in fist.
If you charge it but Well you may hit whom you list.
120
3
Some idle Companions, when with them, you sit.Will talk and fly high, as if th'had all the Wit,
When (alas!) it appears, th'have the Divel a bit,
Their bisket Jests after
Th'are steept in their Laughter,
And pipes, being broke,
With Tobacco (once) out, they will vanish ith' Smoke.
4
Some stately proud High Boyes, do rant it, and callAs if they could Tipple, the Divel and all;
But stand to them stiffly, they'le, easily fall;
Then to't! never fear 'um,
Set Foot, and come near 'um
By Toping about,
Be their Heads ne're so empty, they cannot hold it out,
5
Some pu'nys, whose Cheeks, are with blushes, or'e laid:To fuddle a Gallon, will not be affraid,
Put them to't, and but tell them, They Drink like a Maid.
Then cry but have at it!
Box on them that hate it!
If e're, they refuse.
To Water, as thou doest, or I, let them chuse.
| Poems Lyrique Macaronique Heroique | |