Classic Poem

Since there's so small difference 'twixt drowning and drinking,
We'll tipple and pray, too, like mariners sinking;
Whilst they drink salt water, we'll pledge 'em in wine,
And pay our devotion at Bacchus's shrine:
Oh! Bacchus, great Bacchus, for ever defend us,
And plentiful store of good Burgundy send us.

From censuring the State, and what passes above,
From a surfeit of cabbage, from lawsuits and love,
From meddling with swords and such dangerous things,
And handling of guns in defiance of kings:
Oh! Bacchus, etc.

From riding a jade that will start at a feather,
Or ending a journey with loss of much leather;
From the folly of dying for grief or despair,
With our heads in the water, our heels in the air:
Oh! Bacchus, etc.

From an usurer's gripe, and from every man,
That boldly pretends to do more than he can;
From the scolding of women, and bite of mad dogs,
And wandering over wild Irish bogs:
Oh! Bacchus, etc.

From hunger and thirst, empty bottles and glasses,
From those whose religion consists in grimaces;
From e'er being cheated by female decoys,
From humouring old men, and reasoning with boys:
Oh! Bacchus, etc.

From those little troublesome insects and flies,
That think themselves pretty, or witty, or wise;
From carrying a quartan for mortification,
As long as a Ratisbon consultation:
Oh! Bacchus, great Bacchus, for ever defend us,
And plentiful store of good Burgundy send us.