Come hither, my lads, with your tankards of ale, And drink to the present before it shall fail; Pile each on your platters a mountain of beef, For 'tis eating a nd drinking that bring us relief: So fill up your glass, For life will soon pass ; When you're dead ye'll ne'er drink to your king or your lass! Anacreon had a r ed nose, so they say But what's a red nose if ye're happy and gay? Gad split me! I'd rather be red whilst I'm here, Than white as a lily -and dead half a year! So Betty my miss, Come give me a kiss; In hell there's no inkeeper's daughter li ke this! Young Harry, propp'd up just as straight as he's able, Will soon lose h is wig and slip under the table, But fill up your goblets and pass 'em around- B etter under the table than under the ground! So revel and chaff As ye thirstily quaff: Under six feet of dirt 'tis less easy to laugh! The fiend strike me blue! I'm scarce able to walk, And damn me if I can't stand upright or talk! Here, la ndlord, bid Betty to summon a chair; I'll try home for a while, for my wife is n ot there! So lend me a hand I'm not able to stand But I'm gay whilst I linger on top of the land! (I spiked his drink)
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