And peasants will drink up heavy stuff,
Which they pay a heavy tax on;
And long and late, at many a fête,
Gooseberry champagne will shine—
And as old as it was in Twenty-eight,
It will be in Twenty-nine.
And the Goddess of Love will keep her smiles;
And the God of Cups his orgies;
And there'll be riots in St. Giles,
And weddings in St. George's;