A New collections of songs and poems by Thomas D'Urfey ...
D'Urfey, Thomas, 1653-1723.
Page  69

A Drinking Song.

COme fill the Glasses until they run o're,
Wine is the Mistress we ought to adore;
Women are pretty Fantastical toys,
Fit to please foolish and ignorant boys:
But Wine, Wine, 'tis Wine alone that affords the true joys;
'Tis Wine, 'tis Wine alone that affords the the true joys.
Wine keeps out envy and grief from our hearts,
Wine keeps us from blind Love and his darts;
We ne're at Fortunes Injustice complain,
Nor are we troubled for Celia's disdain:
But all, all, all our Cares are drown'd in Champaign,
All all our Cares are drown'd in Champaign.
Page  70III.
Come fill the Glass and I'le drink a new health,
Which shall not be to my Wit or my Wealth,
Or to my Mistress, to his, or to thine,
But to a Creature more rare and divine:
Come here, here, here, to the best—
I mean the best Wine;
Here, here's to the best, I mean the best Wine.