[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]
BAcchus is a power divine;
For he no sooner fills my head
With mighty wine,
But all my cares resign,
And droop, and droop, and sink down dead:
Then, then the pleasing thoughts begin,
And I in riches flow,
At least I fancy so;
And without thought of want I sing,
Stretch’d on the earth, my head all around
With flowers weav’d into a garland, crown’d:
Then, then I begin to live,
And scorn what all the world can show or give.
Let the brave fools that fondly think
Of honour, and delight
To make a noise, a noise, and fight,
Go seek out war whilft I seek peace,
Whilst I seek peace, seek peace and drink,
Whilst I seek peace, seek peace and drink.
Then fill my glass, fill fill it high;
Some perhaps think it fit to fall and die;
But when bottles are rang’d
Make war with me,
The fighting fool shall see,
When I am sunk,
The difference to ly dead,
And ly dead drunk;
The fighting fool, &c.
