A Catch
4. Mong’st all the precious Juices
Afforded for our uses,
Ther’s none to be compar’d with Sack:
For the body or the mind,
No such Physick you shall find,
Therefore boy see we do not lack.
Would’st thou hit a lofty strain,
With this Liquor warm thy brain,
And thou Swain shalt sing as sweet as Sidney;
Or would’st thou laugh and be fat,
Ther’s not any like to that
To make Jack Sprat a man of kidney.
[It] Is the soul of mirth
To poor Mortals upon Earth;
It would make a coward bold as Hector,
Nay I wager durst a Peece,
That those merry Gods of Greece
Drank old Sack and Nector.
[p. 67.]