JOlly mortals, fill your glasses;
Noble deeds are done by wine;
Scorn the nymph and all her graces:
Who’d for love or beauty pine?
Look upon this bowl that’s flowing,
And a thousand charms you’ll find,
More than in Chloe when just going,
In the moment to be kind.
Alexander hated thinking;
Drank about at council-board;
Made friends and gain’d the world by drinking,
More than by his conquering sword.