England's Triumph: Or The Subject's joy.  

All you that troubled are with Melancholy,  
The Spaniards have a Juice will make you jolly:  
Good Wine, good Wine, I says the only thing,  
That can for such distemper comfort bring:  
It comforts the heart, and quickens each vein,  
If a man behalf dead, it will fetch him again,   
To a pleasant new Tune, Or, come let us drink all day and night.  
 

THe King's most faithful Subjects we,  
indeed we are not dull,  
We drink to show our Loyalty,  
and to fill his Cossers full:  
If all his Subjects drank like us,  
he would be richer far,  
More powerful and more prosperous  
than all the Eastern Monarches are,  
than all the Eastern Monarches are,   

Then let us drink all day and night,  
●ive each a lusty bowl,  
This is the ravishing Delight  
of every generous Soul:  
Whilst others lie and soak in bed,  
and Live but half their time,  
This Wine that lies within our head,  
●; ha●l still preserve us in our prime, etc.   

Instead of sleep we'll spend the Night,  
in singing of the praise,  
Of Wine that makes the Soldier fight,  
and gives the Port bays,  
That fills the veins with noble blood  
though we be ne'er so mean,  
Inspires what's either great or good,  
and turns rank Clowns to Gentlemen, etc.   

Let Shoulders fight, and Parsons preach,  
and scholars break their brains,  
fanatics sweat and ball to teach,  
sedition for their gains.  
Whilst others they do waist and pine,  
we still are sound at heart,  
And if we have but sprightly Wine,  
we'll drink and roar, and never part,  
we'll drink and roar, and never part.   
 

LEt Merchants still for treasures run,  
and cross the burning Line,  
We have our Engines here at home,  
in every glass of Wine.  
Each Carbuncle upon my Nose,  
better than gems doth shine,  
My cheeks are fresh like to a Rose,  
my heart is merry with brisk Wine,  
my heart is merry with brisk Wine.   

Let Doctors cure themselves of grief,  
and each Apothecary,  
We are sure to give ourselves relief,  
by drinking of Canary,  
If melancholy disturbs the mind,  
and makes our hearts full sad,  
We know where we good Sack can find  
and that will make us brisk and glad,  
and that will make us brisk and glad.   

Our Wives the benefit will find  
when we come home at night,  
Good Wine does always make us kind,  
and give them their delight.  
Whilst that the sober sot is dull,  
in counting of his coin,  
And filling of his Coffers full,  
our brains shall swim in Spanish Wine,  
our brains shall swim in Spanish Wine.   

If that a foreign Foe should strive,  
our Country to invade,  
Due bowl of Sack would conquer five,  
drunk by an English blade,  
It makes 'em fight courageously,  
their country to defend,  
They never shrink nor fear to die,  
but hold out stoutly to the end,  
but hold out stoutly to the end.   

If that Consumption should us waste,  
and make our bodies poor,  
Then every morning Sack we taste,  
which both our health restore,  
Around, around, let's drink about,  
the first Glass shall be mine,  
Fill it up to th' brim i'll drink it out,  
and sit and sing the praise of Wine,  
and sit and sing the praise of Wine.   

Here's a health, here's a health to England's King,  
whom God grant long to Reign,  
Our drinking shall him tribute bring,  
let sectaries complain.  
Wealth, honour, and renown attend  
his Royal Name always,  
His joys I wish may ne'er have end,  
but gain his subjects love and praise,  
but gain his Subjects love and praise    

Printed for J. Hose, over, against Staples Inn in Houlbourn, near Grays-Inn-Lane.