 | A royal arbor (1663) |  |
The Frollick.
A Medley of three Airs.
1.
A qualm comes over me, Drawer bringUp a Quart of Canary;
We will drink till our eyes
Out-sparkle the Skies,
And make the full Moon miscarry;
For since Canary will be a King,
This Room shall be a Star-Chamber,
'Cause the Glass in the close
At every man's Nose,
Reflects on his Brow like Amber:
But where are the Moon and Stars,
Alas! they have lost their light;
We'l drink them up
T'other Cup,
Canary can fix 'em right:
Canary can conquer Mars,
And tumble his Target down;
What he can do
Who doth know,
'Till he gets in the Crown.
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2.
Why should we heartless be,But look up unto
Wine, and the wonders Canary can do;
Let us dance after chance
Like fairy Elves,
Drink down misfortune, and drink up our selves;
Drink till the hogsheads reel
One against t'other,
Then like right Statesmen we'l
Drink one another:
All the chink
That we drink
Springs in our Meadows,
We ne're quaff
The tears of
Orphans and Widdows.
3.
'Tis but follyTo be formal holy,
Let's be jolly,
Hang up melancholy;
They that reprove us
Did never love us,
But would remove us,
That they might be above us:
Then let us tarry,
Lest we miscarry,
If we but vary
Our Principle Canary;
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This shall not daunt us,
Though they out-vaunt us,
They never shall out-rant us.
| A royal arbor (1663) | |