Song XXVI., pp.275-277.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

My friend and I, 

We drank whole piss-pots, 

Full of sack up to the brim: 

I drank to my friend, 

And he drank his pot, 

So we put about the whim: 

Three bottles and a quart 

We swallow’d down our throat, 

(But hang such puny sips as these;) 

We laid us all along, 

With our mouths unto the bung, 

And tip’d whole hogsheads off with ease. 


I heard of a fop 

That drank whole tankards, 

Stil’d himself the prince of sots: 

But I say now, hang 

Such silly drunkards, 

Melt their flagons, break their pots. 

My friend and I did join, 

For a cellar full of wine, 

And we drank the vintner out of door; 

We drank it all up 

In a morning, at a sup, 

And greedily rov’d about for more. 


My friend to me 

Did make this motion, 

Let us to the vintage skip: 

Then we imbark’d 

Upon the ocean, 

Where we found a Spanish ship, 

Deep laden with wine, 

Which was superfine, 

The sailors swore five hundred tun; 

We drank it all at sea, 

E’er we came unto the key, 

And the merchant swore he was quite undone. 


My friend, not having 

Quench’d his thirst, 

Said, let’s to the vineyards haste: 

Straight then we sail’d 

To the Canaries

Which afforded just a taste; 

From thence unto the Rhine

Where we drank up all the wine, 

Till Bacchus cry’d, hold ye sots, or you die, 

And swore he never found, 

In his universal round, 

Such thirsty souls as my friend and I. 


Our fie! crys one, 

What a beast he makes him

He can neither stand nor go: 

Out you beast, you, 

You’re much mistaken, 

When e’er knew you a beast drink so? 

‘Tis when we drink the least, 

That we drink most like a beast; 

But when we carouse it six in hand; 

‘Tis then, and only then, 

That we drink the most like men, 

When we drink till we can neither go nor stand. 

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