Come, come let us drink,
'tis in vain to think,
like fools on Grief or sadness,
let our money fly,
and our soffows Dye,
all worldly care is Madness,
But wine and good cheer,
will in spight of our fear,
inspire our hearts with mirth,
boys, the time we live,
to wine let us give,
since all must turn to Earth, Boys.
Hand, hand about the bowl
ye delight of my soul,
and to my hand commend it,
a Fig for chink               Coin
'twas made to buy drink,
and before we go hence we'll spend it.