Come hither my lads with your tankards of ale,
And drink to the present before life should fail
Pile each on your platter a mountain of beef,
Cos it's eating and drinking what brings us relief
So fill up your glass, for life will soon pass,
When you're dead you'll ne'er drink to your king nor your lass,
Anacreon had a red nose so they say,
But what's a red nose if you're happy and gay?

God split me I'd rather be red whilst I'm here,
Than white as a lily and dead half the year,
Come hither my miss and give us a kiss,
In Hell there's no innkeepers daughter like this.
Young Harry propped up just as straight as he's able,
Will soon lose his wig and slip under the table,
So fill up your glasses and pass them around,
Better under the table than under the ground.

So revel and chaff as ye thirstily quaff,
Under six feet of dirt it's less easy to laugh,
The fiend strike me blue I'm scarce able to walk,
And damn if I can't stand upright or talk.
Here landlord bid Betty to summon a chair,
I'll try home for a while for my wife is not there,
So lend us a hand I'm not able to stand,
But I'm gay whist I linger on top of the land.