In the Praise of Wine
’Tis Wine that inspires,
And quencheth Loves fires,
Teaches fools how to rule a S[t]ate:
Mayds ne’re did approve it
Because those that doe love it,
Despise and laugh at their hate.
The drinkers of beer
Did ne’re yet appear
In matters of any waight;
’Tis he whose designe
Is quickn’d by wine
That raises things to their height.
We then should it prize
For never black eyes
Made wounds which this could not heale,
Who then doth refuse,
To drink of this Juice
Is a foe to the Comon weale.
[Followed by A Glee to the Vicar, beginning, “Let the bells ring, and the boys sing:” for which see the Introduction to our edition of Westminster Drollery, pp. xxxvii-viii.]
[p. 55.]