Classic Poem

Come Drawer and fill us about some Wine
 Let's merrily tipple the day's our own,
Wee'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,
 Wee'l Monarchy baffle quite,
Wee'l drink off the Kingdomes revenue,
 And sacrifice all to delight.
'Tis Power that brings
Us all to be Kings,
And wee'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 aw,
 Our Power shall never have end.
The Church and the State wee'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 Presbyters 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.
Then on our Superiours and Equalls we trample,
 And Jockie our stirrup shall hold,
The City'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.