Song XXVII., pp.277-278.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

LET soldiers fight for prey or praise, 

And money be the miser’s wish, 

Poor scholars study all their days, 

And gluttons glory in their dish: 

‘Tis wine, pure wine revives sad souls; 

Therefore fill us the chearing bowls


Let minions marshal every hair, 

And in a lover’s lock delight, 

And artificial colours wear; 

Pure wine is native red and white: 

‘Tis wine, &c. 


The backward spirit it makes brave, 

That lively which before was dull; 

Opens the heart that loves to save, 

And kindness flows from cups brim-full: 

‘Tis wine, &c. 


Some men want youth, and others health, 

Some want a wife, and some a punk, 

Some men want wit, and others wealth; 

But they want nothing that are drunk: 

‘Tis wine, pure wine revives sad souls; 

Therefore give us the chearing bowls

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