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A Tankard of Ale
Wine. I, generous wine, am for the court.
Beer. The citie calls for beer.
Ale. But ale, bonny ale, like a lord of the soyl,
In the country shall domineer.
Chours. Then let us be merry, wash sorrow away ! Wine, beer and ale shall be drunk to-day. |
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THE EPICURE
By Abraham Cowley (1618-1667)
Fill the bowl with rosy wine, Around our temples roses twine, And let us cheerfully awhile, Like the wine and roses, smile. Crown'd with roses, we contemn Gyges' wealthy diadem. To-day is ours; what do we fear ? To-day is ours ; we have it here. Let's treat it kindly, that it may Wish, at least, with us to stay ; Let's banish business, banish sorrow. To the gods belongs to-morrow. |
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88 |
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