With head unto the tap then lay me,
My feet towards the wall may lie.
And when you're to the grave me bringing,
As follow all then, man by man;
For God's sake let no bell be ringing,
And clinking glasses be your plan.
Upon my gravestone be inscribed,
This man was born, grew, drank, and died,--
And now he rests where he imbibed
In lifelong joy, the purple tide.