SONG XIX.*

Busy, curious, thirsty fly,
Drink with me, and drink as I ;
Freely welcome to my cup,
Could'st thou sip and sip it up.
Make the most of life you may,
Life is short, and wears away.

Both alike are mine and thine,
Hastening quick to their decline :
Thine's a summer, mine no more,
Though repeated to threescore;
Threescore summers, when they're gone,
Will appear as short as one,

[Yet this difference we may see
'Twixt the life of man and thee :
Thou art for this life alone,
Man seeks another when 'tis gone ;
And though allow'd its joys to share,
'Tis Virtue here hopes Pleasure there.]t

* 'Made extempore by a gentleman, occasioned by a fly drinking out of his cup of ale.'

+ [This moral finale was added by the Rev. Mr. Plamptre. - See his. Collection of Songs,' vol. i. p. 257 ; where a third verse appears to the original composition, which was probably omitted by Ritson, from its incongruity of metaphor.]

SONG XX.

ANACREON ON HIMSELF.

BY THE REV. MR. FAWKES.

When I drain the rosy bowl,
Joy exhilarates my soul ;
To the Nine I raise my song,
Ever fair and ever young.
When full cups my cares expel,
Sober counsels then farewel ;
Let the winds, that murmur, sweep
All my sorrows to the deep.

When I drink dull time away,
Jolly Bacchus, ever gay,
Leads me to delightful bowers,
Full of fragrance, full of flowers.
When I quaff the sparkling wine,
And
my

locks with roses twine, Then I praise life’s rural scene, Sweet, sequester’d, and serene.

When I sink the bowl profound, Richest fragrance flowing round, And some lovely nymph detain, Venus then inspires the strain. When from goblets deep and wide, I exhaust the generous tide,

1

All my soul unbends—I play,
Gamesome, with the young and gay.*

SONG XXI.

MORTALS, learn your lives to measure,
Not by length of time, but pleasure;
Now the hours invite, comply ;
Whilst you idly pause, they fly :
Blest, a nimble pace they keep ;
But in torment, then they creep.

Mortals, learn your lives to measure,
Not by length of time, but pleasure;
Soon your spring must have a fall;
Losing youth, is losing all :
Then you'll ask, but none will give ;
And may linger, but not live.

SONG XXII.

Old Chiron thus preach'd to his pupil Achilles :
I'll tell you, young gentleman, what the Fates will is ;

You, my boy,

Must go

(The gods will have it so) To the siege of Troy ;

* Mr. Fawkes's translation contains the following additional lines, necessarily omitted when it was converted into a songs

When the foaming bowl I drain,
Real blessings are my gain ;
Blessings which my own I call:
Death is common to us all.

Thence never to return to Greece again,
But before those walls to be slain.
Ne'er let your noble courage be cast down;
But, all the while you lie before the town,
Drink, and drive care away, drink and be merry;
You'll ne'er go the sooner to the Stygian ferry.

SONG XXIII.

Let's be jovial, fill our glasses,

Madness 'tis for us to think-
How the world is rul’d by asses,

And the wise are sway'd by chink.

Then never let vain cares oppress us ;

Riches are to them a snare ;
We're ev'ry one as rich as Crosus,

While our bottle drowns our care.

Wine will make us red as roses,

And our sorrows quite forget ;
Come let's fuddle all our noses,

Drink ourselves quite out of debt.

When grim Death comes looking for us,

We are toping off our bowls ;
Bacchus joining in the chorus,

Death, begone, here's none but souls.

Godlike Bacchus thus commanding,

Trembling Death away shall fly ;
Ever after understanding,

Drinking souls can never die,

SONG XXIV.

Every man take a glass in his hand,

And drink a good health to the king ; Many years may he rule o'er this land,

May his laurels for ever fresh spring ! Let wrangling and jangling straightway cease, Let every man strive for his country's peace ;

Neither tory nor whig,

With their parties, look big : Here's a health to all honest men.

'Tis not owning a whimsical name

That proves a man loyal and just; Let him fight for his country's fame,

Be impartial at home, if in trust : 'Tis this that proves him an honest soul, His health we'll drink in a brimful bowl :

Then let's leave off debate,

No confusion create ;
Here's a health to all honest men.

When a company's honestly met,

With intent to be merry and gay, Their drooping spirits to whet,

And drown the fatigues of the day; What madness is it thus to dispute, When neither side can his man confute ?

When you've said what you dare,

You're but just where you were, Here's a health to all honest men.