Who so merry then as we?
’Tis she that makes us now to sing,
And only She can pleasure bring.
Chorus.
Since we then such freedome have,
Wee’ll purchase pleasure, or a grave;
’Tis better so, then live a slave.
As I am free, so will be still,
For no man shall abridge my will:
I’ll pass my life in choicest pleasure,