Song LXXVIII., pp.331-332.

[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. 

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