Classic Poem

Come, all ye jolly bacchanals,
Who love to tope good wine,
Let us offer up a hogshead
Unto our master's shrine.
Then let us drink, and never shrink,
For I'll tell you the reason why.
'Tis a great sin to leave a house
Till we've drunk the cellar dry.

In times of old I was a fool,
I drank the water clear;
But Bacchus took me from that rule,
He thought 'twas too severe.
He fill'd a goblet to the brim,
And bade me take a sup;
And had it been a gallon-pot,
By Jove! I'd toss'd it up.

And ever since that happy time
Good wine has been my cheer.
Now nothing puts me in a swoon
But water, or small beer.
Then let us tope a bout, my boys,
And never flinch nor fly,
But fill our skins with generous wine,
And drain the bottles dry.