LET us drink and be merry, dance, joke, and rejoice,
With claret and sherry, theorbo and
The changeable world to our joy is unjust,
All treasures uncertain,
Then down with your dust!
frolics dispose your pounds, shillings, and pence,
For we shall be nothing a hundred years hence.
Well sport and be free with Moll, Betty, and Dolly,
Have oysters and lobsters to cure melancholy:
dinners will make a lass spring like a flea,
Dame Venus, loves lady,
Was born of the sea;
With her and
with Bacchus well tickle the sense,
For we shall be past it a hundred years hence.
Your most beautiful bride who with garlands is crownd
And kills with each glance as she
treads on the ground,
Whose lightness and brightness doth shine in such splendour
That none but the
Are thought fit to attend her,
Though now she be pleasant and sweet to the sense,
Will be damnable
mouldy a hundred years hence.
Then why should we turmoil in cares and in fears,
Turn all our tranquillty to sighs and to
Lets eat, drink, and play till the worms do corrupt us,
Tis certain, Post mortem
health, wealth and beauty, wit, learning and sense,
Must all come to nothing a hundred years hence.
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