SONG. (Let a set of sober asses)

Let a set of sober asses Rail against the joys of drinking, While water, tea, And milk agree To set cold brains a thinking. Power and wealth, Beauty, health, Wit and mirth in wine are crown'd, Joys abound, Pleasure's found, Only where the glass goes round.

The ancient sects on happiness All differ'd in opinion; But wiser rules Of modern schools In wine fix her dominion.

Wine gives the lover vigor, Makes glow the cheek of beauty; Makes poets write, And soldiers fight, And friendship do its duty.

Wine was the only Helicon Whence poets are long liv'd so; 'Twas no other main Than brisk champaign, Whence Venus was derived too.

When Heaven in Pandara's box All kind of ill had sent us, In a merry mood A bottle of good Was cork'd up to content us.

All virtues wine is nurse to, Of every vice destroyer; Gives dullards wit, Makes just the cit, Truth forces from the lawyer,

Wine jest our joys a flowing, Our care and sorrow drowning, Who rails at the bowl, Is a Turk in's soul, And a christian ne'er should own him,