Wine, No. 1

At the mandate, Go ye forth, Through the whole world hurry! Priests tramp out toward south and north, Monks and hermits skurry, Levites smooth the gospel leave, Bent on ambulation; Each and all to our sect cleave, Which is life's salvation.

In this sect of ours 'tis writ: Prove all things in season; Weigh this life and judge of it By your riper reason; 'Gainst all evil clerks be you Steadfast in resistance, Who refuse large tithe and due Unto your subsistence.

Marquesses, Bavarians, Austrians and Saxons, Noblemen and chiefs of clans, Glorious by your actions! Listen, comrades all, I pray, To these new decretals: Misers they must meet decay, Niggardly gold-beetles.

We the laws of charity Found, nor let them crumble; For into our order we Take both high and humble; Rich and poor men we receive, In our bosom cherish; Welcome those the shavelings leave At their doors to perish.

We receive the tonsured monk, Let him take his pittance; And the parson with his punk, If he craves admittance; Masters with their bands of boys, Priests with high dominion; But the scholar who enjoys Just one coat's our minion!

This our sect doth entertain Just men and unjust ones; Halt, lame, weak of limb or brain, Strong men and robust ones; Those who flourish in their pride, Those whom age makes stupid; Frigid folk and hot folk fried In the fires of Cupid.

Tranquil souls and bellicose, Peacemaker and foeman; Czech and Hun, and mixed with those German, Slav, and Roman; Men of middling size and weight, Dwarfs and giants mighty; Men of modest heart and state, Vain men, proud and flighty.

Of the Wanderers' order I Tell the Legislature— They whose life is free and high, Gentle too their nature— They who'd rather scrape a fat Dish in gravy swimming, Than in sooth to marvel at Barns with barley brimming.

Now this order, as I ken, Is called sect or section, Since its sectaries are men Divers in complexion; Therefore hic and haec and hoc Suit it in declension, Since so multiform a flock Here finds comprehension.

This our order hath decried Matins with a warning; For that certain phantoms glide In the early morning, Whereby pass into man's brain Visions of vain folly; Early risers are insane, Racked by melancholy.

This our order doth proscribe All the year round matins; When they've left their beds, our tribe In the tap sing latins; There they call for wine for all, Roasted fowl and chicken; Hazard's threats no hearts appal, Though his strokes still thicken.

This our order doth forbid Double clothes with loathing: He whose nakedness is hid With one vest hath clothing: Soon one throws his cloak aside At the dice-box calling; Next his girdle is untied, While the cards are falling.

What I've said of upper clothes To the nether reaches; They who own a shirt, let those Think no more of breeches; If one boasts big boots to use, Let him leave his gaiters; They who this firm law refuse Shall be counted traitors.

No one, none shall wander forth Fasting from the table; If thou'rt poor, from south and north Beg as thou art able! Hath it not been often seen That one coin brings many, When a gamester on the green Stakes his lucky penny?

No one on the road should walk 'Gainst the wind—'tis madness; Nor in poverty shall stalk With a face of sadness; Let him bear him bravely then, Hope sustain his spirit; After heavy trials men Better luck inherit!

While throughout the world you rove, Thus uphold your banners; Give these reasons why you prove Hearts of men and manners: "To reprove the reprobate, Probity approving, Improbate from approbate To remove, I'm moving."