Scotish Comic Ballads XXVII

LET's be jovial, fill our glasses; Madness 'tis for us to think How the warld is rul'd by asses, And the wise are rul'd by chink.

Never let vain cares oppress us; Riches are to all a snare. We're every one as rich as Croesus, While our bottle drowns our care.

Wine will make us red as roses, Let us all our woes forget; Let us, fuddling all our noses, Drink ourselves quite out of debt.

When grim Death is looking for us, We are toping at our bowls; Bacchus joins us in the chorus, 'Death begone! Here's none but souls.