The fifthteenth Song

Here's a Health to a merry old sinner,
A Glass of strong Aquavitae,
That for a crown and a dinner
Will get you a Wench will delight you.

Because that you are not for Ale,
Here's a Health to a Wench in strong Beer;
Although she (like it) be stale,
She may happen to cost you dear.

Here's a Health in Ale to your Dear,
That lately hath serv'd in the Kitchin;
A bouncing Wastcoteer,
A remedy for your itching.

Here's a Health to the Earls fine daughter,
In Rhenish with Lemmon and Suggar,
Who (with this well ballanc'd) will after
Give liberty to you to hugge her.

Unto the Green-sickness Maid
Here's a Health in sparkling White,
Though yet she be never so staid,
She may alter her mind ere night.

Unto the new married wife,
An Health here is in neat Claret;
Though her spouse lead a jealous Life,
And her tongue out-prattles a Parret,

To the jovial widdow at last,
An health we will drink in Sack
Her constitution's in hast,
You may quickly guess what she doth lack.

Now you have so freely drunk
Their healths, and merrily round.
Each of you may go to his Punk,
They are yours a mite to a pound.

Bút now I've thought better on't,
Y'ad best to leave drinking and whoring
For virtue hereafter will vaunt,
When vice shall receive a great scowring,