Reasons for Incntinence

The women all tell me I'm false to my lass, That I quit my poor Chloe, and stick to my glass: But to you man of reason, my reason, I'll own; And if you don't like them, why let them alone.

Although I have left her the truth I'll declare, I believe she was good, and I'm sure she was fair: But such goodness and charms in a bumper I see; That it makes it as good and as charming as she.

My Chloe had dimples and smiles I must own. But though she could smile, yet in truth she could frown; But tell me ye lovers of liquors divine, Did you ever see a frown in a bumper of wine?

Her lilies and roses were just in their prime; Yet lilies and roses are conquer'd by time; But in wine from its age such a benefit flows, That I like it the better the older it grows.

They tell me my love would in time have been cloy'd, And that beauty's insipid when once 'tis enjoy'd; But in wine, I both time and enjoyment defy, For the longer I drink the more thirsty am I.

Let murders, and battles, and history prove The mischiefs that wait upon rivals in love; But in drinking, thank Heav'n, no rival contends; For the more we love liquor, the more we are friends.

She too might have poison'd the joys of my life With nurses, and babies, and squalling, and strife; But my wine neither nurses nor babies can bring. And a big belly'd bottle's a mighty good thing,

We shorten our days when with love we engage; It brings on diseases, and hastens old age: But wine from grim death can its votaries save, And keep out t'other leg when there's one in the grave.

Perhaps, like her sex ever false to their word, She had left me—to get an estate or a lord; But my bumper, regarding nor titles nor pelf, Will stand by me when I can't stand by myself.

Then let my dear Chloe no longer complain, She's rid of her lover and I of my pain; For in wine, mighty wine, many comforts I spy, Should you doubt what I say, take a pumper and try.