The Loyal Subject (as it is reason)
Drinks good Sack and is free from Treason.
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COme let's drink the time invites,
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Winter and cold weather,
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For to pass away long nights,
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and to keep good wits together;
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Better far than Cards or Dice,
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Or Isaac's Balls that quaint Device,
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made up of Fan and Feather.
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Of grand Actions on the Seas,
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we will ne'r be jealous,
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Give us Liquor that will please,
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and will make us braver fellows
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Than the bold Venetian Fleet,
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When the Turks and they do meet,
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within the Dardonellows.
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M[o]homet was no Divine,
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but a senseless Widgeon,
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To forbid the use of Wine
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unto those of his Religion;
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Fall-sickness was his shame,
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And his Throne shall have the blame,
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for all his whispering Pidgeon.
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Valentia that famous Town,
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stood the French-mens wonder,
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[?]er it imploy'd to drown,
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[?] to cut their Troops assunder;
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Turene cast a helpless look,
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Whilst the crafty Spaniards took,
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La-Ferta and his Plunder.
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Therefore Water we disdain,
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Mankinds adversary,
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Once it caus'd the worlds whole frame
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in a Deluge to miscarry;
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Nay the Enemies of Joy,
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Seek with Envy to destroy,
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and murder good Canary.
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Sack's the Princes surest Guard,
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if he would but try it,
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No Rebellion e'r was heard,
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where the Subjects soundly ply it,
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And three Constables at most,
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Are enough to quell an Host,
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that thus disturb our quiet.
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Drink about your full brim Bowls,
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see there be no shrinking,
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For to quench your thirsty So
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Projects are not thinking,
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ay we will devise
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How to make our colours rise,
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and Noses rich with drinking.
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The second part to the same Tune.
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CAuse the Rubies to appear
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in their Orient Lustre,
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Pottle Pots bring up the Rear,
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for our Forces we must muster.
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Senior Gallon leads the Van,
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He hath taken many a man,
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and drowns them on a Cluster.
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Sack it doth inspire the Wit,
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though the Brain be muddy,
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Some that ne'r knew nothing yet,
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by it's vertue falls to study;
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He that tipples up good Sack,
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Finds sound Marrow in the Back,
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that's wholsom for the Belly.
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All the faculties of Man,
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are inriched by this Treasure,
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He that first this Bowl began,
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let him give to all his measure:
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Sack is like AEtherial fire,
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Which doth kindle new desire,
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to do a woman Pleasure.
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Sack doth make the Spirit bold,
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'tis like the Muses Nectar,
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Some that silent tongues did hold,
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now can speak a learned Lecture,
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By the slowing of the Tub,
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They can break Alcidds Club,
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and take the Crown from Hector,
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We ne'r covet to be Rich,
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with Commerse or Trading,
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Nor have we no zealous Itch,
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though our quondom means is fading,
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But our Vessels & our Store,
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And Wits, is how to get more
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good Sack, and that's our lading.
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We that drink good Sack in Plate,
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to make us blithe and jolly,
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Never Plot against the State,
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to be punish'd for such folly,
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But the merry Glass and Pipe,
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Makes our Senses quick and ripe,
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and expels Melancholly.
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See the Sqibs, and hear the Bells,
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the fifth day of November,
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The Preacher a sad Story tells,
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And with horror doth remember,
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how some dry-braind traitors wrought
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Plots, that would to ruin brought,
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both King and every Member.
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We that drink, have no such thoughts
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blind and void of Reason.
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We take care to fill our Vaults,
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with good Wine at every season.
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And with many a cheerful Cup,
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We blow one another up,
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and that's our onely Treason.
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