| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS |
||
|
Many, I see, have riches plenty — Fine coaches, livery, servants twenty;—
Yet envy never pains me; My appetite's as good as theirs, I sleep as sound, as free from fears;
I've only what maintains me !
And while the precious joys I prove Of Tom's true friendship—and the love
Of bonny black-eyed Jenny,— Ye gods ! my wishes are confined To—health of body, peace of mind,
Clean linen, and a guinea ! |
||
|
SWEET CHLOE
SWEET Chloe advised me, in accents divine, The joys of the bowl to surrender ; Nor lose, in the turbid excesses of wine, Delights more ecstatic and tender; She bade me no longer in vineyards to bask, Or stagger, at orgies, the dupe of a flask, For the sigh of a sot's but the scent of the cask, And a bubble the bliss of the bottle.
To a soul that's exhausted, or sterile, or dry, The juice of the grape may be wanted ;
But mine is revived by a love-beaming eye, And with fancy's gay flow'rets enchanted.
Oh I who but an owl would a garland entwine
Of Bacchus's ivy—and myrtle resign ?
Yield the odors of love, for the vapors of wine, And Chloe's kind kiss for a bottle! |
||