Pert fools that love Sherris perchance may attack us;
What boots it, my bully boys? Drink and be gay.
Adzooks, let the braggarts go sleep in the gutter;
Carouse ye, so long as Bohea can be found;
Let those who prefer it have plain bread and butter:
For me lads, I warrant the toast shall go t round.
Chorus.—Let those, &c.
Odsbodikins! Tea is the soul and the sinew
Of all the gay gallants that fight for the king;
Long, long on the throne may our monarch continue,