A Bacchanal Song, pp.172-174.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

To the Tune of, Auld Sir Symon the King

– 

COme here’s to the nymph that I love! 

Away ye vain sorrows, away: 

Far, far from my bosom be gone, 

All there shall be pleasant and gay. 

– 

Far hence be the sad and the pensive, 

Come fill up the glasses around, 

We’ll drink till our faces be ruddy, 

And all our vain sorrows are drown’d. 

– 

‘Tis done and my fancy’s exulting 

With every gay blooming desire, 

My blood with brisk ardour is glowing, 

Soft pleasures my bosom inspire. 

– 

My soul now to love is disolving, 

Oh fate! had I here my fair charmer, 

I’d clasp her, I’d clasp her so eager, 

Of all her disdain, I’d disarm her. 

– 

But hold, what has love to do here 

With his troops of vain cares in aray, 

Avaunt idle pensive intruder, – 

He triumphs he will not away. 

– 

I’ll drown him, come give me a bumper; 

Young Cupid, here’s to thy confusion. – 

Now, now, he’s departing, he’s vanquish’d, 

Adieu to his anxious delusion. 

– 

Come, jolly God Bacchus, here’s to thee; 

Huzza boys, huzza boys, huzza, 

Sing Iô, sing Iô to Bacchus – 

Hence all ye dull thinkers withdraw. 

– 

Come, what shou’d we do but be jovial, 

Come tune up your voices and sing; 

What soul is so dull to be heavy, 

When wine set’s our fancies on wing. 

– 

Come, Pegasus lies in this bottle, 

He’ll mount us, he’ll mount us on high, 

Each of us a gallant young Perseus

Sublime we’ll ascend to the sky. 

– 

Come mount, or adieu, I arise, 

In seas of wide Æther I’m drown’d, 

The clouds far beneath me are sailing, 

I see the spheres whirling around. 

– 

What darkness, what ratling is this, 

Thro’ Chaos’ dark regions I’m hurl’d, 

And now, – oh my head it is knockt, 

Upon some confounded new world. 

– 

Now, now these dark shades are retiring, 

See yonder bright blazes a star, 

Where am I? – behold the Empyreum

With flaming light streaming from far. 

New Words by Different Hands

Leave a Reply