The Delights of the Bottle:
OR,
The Town-Gallants Declaration for Women and Wine
Being a Perfect Description of a Town-bred-Gentleman, with all his Intregues, Pleasure, Company, Humor, & Conversation.
Gallants from faults he cannot be exempt,
Who doth a task so difficult attempt;
I know I shall not hit your feature right,
Tis hard to imitate in Black and White;
Some Lines were drawn by a more Skillfull hand,
And which those were, youl quickly understand:
Excuse me therefore if I do you wrong,
I did but make a Ballade of a Song.
To a most Admirable New Tune, every where much in Request.
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THe Delights of the Bottle, & Charms of good Wine
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To the Powr and the pleasures of Love must resign:
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Though the Night in the joys of good drinking be past,
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The Debauches but till the morning doth last;
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But Loves great Debauch is more lasting and strong,
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For that often lasts a Man all his life long.
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Love, and Wine, are the hands that fasten us all,
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The World but for this, to Confusion would fall:
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Were it not for the pleasures of Love, and good Wine,
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Mankind, for each trifle, their lives woud resign;
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Theyd not value dull life, or woud live without thinking,
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Nor Kings rule the World, but for Love & good drinking.
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For the Grave, and the Dull, by sobriety Cursd,
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That woud nere take a glass, but for quenching his thirst;
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He that once in a Moneth takes a touch of the Smock,
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And poor Nature upholds, with a bit and a knock:
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Whatsoever the Ignorant Rabble may say,
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Tho he breaths till a hundred, he lives not a Day.
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Let the Puritan Preach against Wenches, and Drink,
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He may prate out his Lungs, but I know what I think;
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When the Lecture is done, hel a Sister intice,
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Not a Letcher in Town, can out-do him at Vice;
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Tho beneath his Religion, he stifles his joys,
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And become a Debauch, without clamour or noise.
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Twixt the Vices of both, little difference lyes,
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But that one is more open, the other precize:
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Though he drinks like a Chick, with his eye-balls lift up
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Yet Ile warrant thee Boy, he shall take off his Cup:
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His Religious Debauch, does the Gallants out-match,
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For a Saint is his Wench, and a Psalm is his Catch.
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For the Lady of Vertue, and Honour so strict,
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That who offers her Guineys, deserves to be kickd,
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Who with sport by her self, doth her fancy beguile,
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Thats ashamd of a jest, and afraid of a smile,
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May she lye by her self, till she wear out the stairs,
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Going down to her Dinner, and up to her Prayeres.
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But let us that have Noble and generous Souls,
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No Method observe, but in filling our Bowls,
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Let us frolick it round, to replenish our Veins,
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And with Notions Divine, to enspire our Brains,
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Tis a way thats Genteil, and is found to be good,
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Both to quicken the Wit, and enliven the Bloud.
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What a pleasure it is to see Bottles before us,
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With the Women among us to make up the Chorus?
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Now a jest, now a Catch, now a Busse, now a Health,
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Till our pleasure comes on by insensible stealth,
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And when grown to a height, with our Girls we retire,
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By a brisker enjoyment, to slacken the fire.
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And this is the way that the wiser do take,
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A perpetual motion in pleasure to make;
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With a Floud of Obrian, we fill up each Vein,
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All the Spirits of which Lovs Alimbeck must drain,
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While the soberer Sot, has no motion of Bloud
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For his Fancy is nothing, but Puddle and Mud.
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Hes a slave to his Soul, who in spight of his Sense,
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With a Clog of his own putting on can dispence,
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For he Fetters himself, when at large he might Rove,
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So hes tyd from the sweets of good drinking and Love,
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Yet hes satisfied well, that hes thought to be wise,
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By the dull and the foolish; I mean the precise.
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For my part whatever the consequence be,
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To my Will, and my Fancy, Ile always be free,
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They are mad that do wilfully run upon Shelves,
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Since dangers, and troubles, will come of themselves;
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For whoever desireth to live like a man,
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He must be without trouble, as long as he can.
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And these are the pleasures true Gallants do find,
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To which if you are not, you should be enclind,
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If you follow my Counsel, you take off the Curse,
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And if you do not, we are never the worse;
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Yet none will refuse, but a Beggar or Cit,
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Who to caron the humour, wants Money or Wit.
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