Let those that merely talk and never think,
That live in the wild anarchy of drink.
Just a wee deoch-an-doris, just a wee yin, that's a'.
Just a wee deoch-an-doris before we gang a-wa',
There's a wee wifie waitin', in a wee but-an-ben;
If you can say "It's a braw bricht moon-licht nicht
Y're a 'richt ye ken.
And I wish his soul in heaven may dwell,
Who first invented this leathern bottel!
Now to rivulets from the mountains
Point the rods of fortune-tellers;
Youth perpetual dwells in fountains,
Not in flasks, and casks, and cellars.
Myrtale often smells of wine, but, wise,
With eating bay-leaves thinks it to disguise:
So nott with water tempers the wine's heate,
But covers it. Henceforth if her you meete
With red face and swell'd veynes, modestly say,
"Sure Myrtale hath drunk o' th' bayes today?"
Attic honey thickens the nectar-like Falernian. Such drink deserves to be mixed by Ganymede.
Let Nepos place Caeretan wine on table, and you will deem it Setine. But he does not give it to all the world; he drinks it only with a trio of friends.
Provocarem ad Philippum, inquit, sed sobrium.
I would appeal to Philip, she said, but to Philip sober.
One sip of this
Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight,
Beyond the bliss of dreams.
Then to the spicy nut-brown ale.
When treading London's well-known ground
If e'er I feel my spirits tire,
I haul my sail, look up around,
In search of Whitbread's best entire.
Drinking will make a man quaff,
Quaffing will make a man sing,
Singing will make a man laugh,
And laughing long life doth bring,
Says old Simon the King.
Inter pocula.
Over their cups.
There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl
The feast of reason and the flow of soul.
They never taste who always drink.
Je ne boy en plus qu'une esponge.
I do not drink more than a sponge.
Il y a plus de vieux ivrongnes qu'il y a de vieux medecins.
There are more old drunkards than old physicians.
Die Limonade ist matt wie deine Seele—versuche!
This lemonade is weak like your soul—try it.
Drink down all unkindness.
I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking: I could wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment.
This bottle's the sun of our table,
His beams are rosy wine;
We planets that are not able
Without his help to shine.
Si bene commemini, causse sunt quinque bibendi;
Hospitis adventus, prjesens sitis, atque futura,
Aut vini bonitas, aut quaelibet altera causa.
If all be true that I do think,
There are five reasons we should drink;
Good wine—a friend—or being dry—
Or lest we should be by and by—
Or any other reason why.
.
Let the back and sides go bare, my boys,
Let the hands and the feet gang cold;
But give to belly, boys, beer enough,
Whether it be new or old.
