A Jolly Company OF Jovial Blades  
Who laugh and are as merry as the Maids;   
They sing and roar and freely spend their Chink,  
And to each other in full Bowls they drink  
They scorn such puny pinch-guts as are saving,  
They think good Sack is only worth the having,  
And being fully bend to spend their store,  
They drink their Liquor off and call for more;  
Thus while they freely tope off Sack by quarts,  
They drive away all sorrows from their hearts.  
To the Tune of General Monk hath advanced himself since he came from the Tower.  
 

IT was of late my happy fate  
to meet with a jovial crew  
Of merry Blades and lively Lads;  
who drank till the Sky looked blue:  
Being void of care no money they spare,  
but all with free consent  
Drank Wine good store, and then called for more  
so merrily they were bend.   

Hang sorrow quoth one, why should we make moan  
so long as our money doth last  
Away with this sadness, 'tis folly and madness  
to think upon what is past,  
Let's drink and bouse, and bravely carouse  
and lest that the time should seem long  
Give ear unto me, my task it shall be,  
to sing you a gallant new Song.   

Be merry my hearts and call for your quarts  
and let no liquor be lacking  
We have money good store and intend for to roar  
until we have set all a packing,  
Come Drawer make haste let not the time waste  
let every man have his due,  
For to save shoes and trouble,  
Bring in a quart double,  
for he that made one, made two,   

Come take off your drink, and speak what you think,  
strong liquor will make you speak truly  
For certainly we, no drunkards can be,  
so long as we are not unruly;  
Then drink and be civil, intending no evil  
and be not offended with me,  
For what I had before, I'll have one quart more,  
for he that made two, made three.   

The Second Part, to the same Tune.  
 

THe greedy Curmudgin sits all the day grudging,  
at home with his bread and small beer,  
For to holdup base pelf, he starveth himself,  
scarce eats a good meal through the year,  
But we'll not do so how e'er the world go,  
so long as we have any store,  
I think we'll not lack, go fill us more Sack,  
for h● that made three, made four.   

Why sit you so sadly, since I call so madly,  
I scorn to leave you in the lurch,  
The reckoning I'll pay, ere I go away;  
●lse hang me as high as the Church,  
Yet some men will say that is not the way,  
he must pinch that intends for to thrive,  
'tis no matter for that, let's laugh and be fat,  
for he that made four, made five.   

Such love I intent, to my dearest Friend,  
that I cannot tell how to express it,  
When with them I meet their company's so sweet  
That I would not willingly miss it.  
I scorn such a slave as his money will save,  
or any that use such base tricks,  
Come on my brave Blades be as merry as, the Maids,  
for he that made five, made six.   

Now whilst I am here. I'll call for my Beer,  
and truly my money I'll spend,  
Let no man take care, for paying his share,  
If need be, I'll pay for my friend,  
Pluck up a good heart let sorrow depart,  
with the Drawer I will make even,  
So with merry content, our time shall be spent;  
For he that made six, made seven.   

Drink off your cups round let sorrows be drowned,  
in this same full cup off good sherry,  
I cannot endure, to sit thus demure,  
for hither we came to be merry,  
Then be of good cheer, the reckoning I'll clear,  
and eke with the Drawer make straight,  
For now I'm set a madding I needs must be adding  
and he that made seven, made eight.   

Yet at home I confess, with my honest Bess,  
I practise good husbandry well,  
To maintain my calling and keep me from falling  
as all my neighbours can tell,  
They plead me at large, for maintaining my charge  
though sometimes to drink I incline,  
Yet I scorn for to shrink, go fill us more drink,  
for he that made eight, made nine.   

Here's a health to my friend, that hath a song penned  
in praise of good Liquor that's old,  
Drink off your cups round whilst Music doth sound  
in hope it will keep you from cold,  
And now to conclude my verses so rude,  
you are all welcome Gentlemen:  
Ye● e'er we depart I'll give you a quart:  
for he that made nine, made ten.   

This being said the reckoning they paid,  
and in friendly manner departed,  
There's none of them had any cause to be sad,  
but all went away merry hearted,  
And when they do meet again in the street,  
then, unto the Tavern they'll hie:  
And there they intent, their money to spend,  
which no body can deny.    
FINIS.