Classic Poem

1

Come drawer and fill us about some wine,
Let's merrily tipple the day's our own,
We'l have our delights, let the country go pine,
Let the King and his Kingdom groan
The Crown is our own and so shall continue,
We'l Monarchy baffle quite,
We'l drink off the Kingdomes revenue,
And sacrifice all to delight
'Tis power that brings
Us all to be Kings
And we'l be all crown'd by our might.

2

A fig for divinity lectures and law,
And all that to Loyalty do pretend,
While we by the sword keep the Kingdom in awe,
Our power shall never have end.
The Church and the State we'l turn into liquor,
And spend a whole Town in a day,
We'l melt all their bodkins the quicker
Into sack, and drink them away
We'l keep the demeans
And turn Bishops and Deans,
And over the Presbyter sway.

3

The nimble St Patrick is sunk in his boggs,
And his Country men sadly cry O hone, O hone !
St Andrew and's Kirk-men are lost in the foggs,
Now we are the Saints alone
Thus on our Superiours and Equalls we trample,
And Jocky our stirrup shall hold,
The Cittie's our Mule for example,
That we may in plenty be roul'd
Each delicate dish,
Shall but Eccho our wish
And our drink shall be cordial gold.