Catches, canons and drinking songs
Come Jack drink about,
take it off with a grace,
no ruby compares with a carbuncle face,
no sipping nor spitting
like a squeamish young bride,
take a pint that’s a brimmer,
and away the next tide,
then ring for the drawer,
rouse the rogue from his sleep,
’tis a folly to stir now
whilst daylight doth peep.