COME, pass round the pail, boys, and give it no quarter, Drink deep, and drink oft, and replenish your jugs, Fill up, and I'll give you a toast to your water -- The Turncock for ever! that opens the plugs! Then hey for a bucket, a bucket, a bucket, Then hey for a bucket, filled up to the brim! Or, best of all notions, let's have it by oceans, With plenty of room for a sink or a swim! Let topers of grape-juice exultingly vapour, But let us just whisper a word to the elves, We water roads, horses, silks, ribands, bank-paper, Plants, poets, and muses, and why not ourselves? Then hey for a bucket, &c. The vintage they cry, think of Spain's and of France's, The jigs, the boleros, fandangos, and jumps; But water's the spring of all civilised dances, We go to a ball not in bottles, but @3pumps!@1 Then hey for a bucket, &c. Let others of Dorchester quaff at their pleasure, Or honour old Meux with their thirsty regard -- We'll drink Adam's ale, and we get it @3pool@1 measure, Or quaff heavy wet from the butt in the yard! Then hey for a bucket, &c. Some flatter gin, brandy, and rum, on their merits, Grog, punch, and what not, that enliven a feast: 'Tis true that they stir up the animal spirits, But may not the animal turn out a beast? Then hey for a bucket, &c. The Man of the Ark, who continued our species, He saved us by water, -- but as for the wine, We all know the figure, more sad than facetious, He made after tasting the juice of the vine. Then hey for a bucket, &c. In wine let a lover remember his jewel And pledge her in bumpers fill'd brimming and oft; But we can distinguish the kind from the cruel, And toast them in water, the @3hard@1 or the @3soft.@1 Then hey for a bucket, &c. Some cross'd in their passion can never o'erlook it, But take to a pistol, a knife, or a beam; Whilst temperate swains are enabled to @3brook@1 it By help of a little meandering stream. Then hey for a bucket, &c. Should fortune diminish our cash's sum-total, Deranging our wits and our private affairs, Though some in such cases would fly to the bottle, There's nothing like water for drowning our cares. Then hey for a bucket, &c. See drinkers of water, their wits never lacking, Direct as a railroad and smooth in their gaits; But look at the bibbers of wine, they go tacking, Like ships that have met a foul wind in the @3straits.@1 Then hey for a bucket, &c. A fig then for Burgundy, Claret, or Mountain, A few scanty glasses must limit your wish, But he's the true toper that goes to the fountain, The drinker that verily "drinks like a fish!" Then hey for a bucket, &c. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWILIGHT SONG by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON CHURCHILL'S GRAVE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON DUTY SURVIVING SELF-LOVE; THE ONLY SURE FRIEND OF DECLINING LIFE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE FINDING OF LOVE by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES THE SAD MOTHER by KATHARINE TYNAN LINES TO SAMUEL ROGERS IN WALES ON EVE OF BASTILLE DAY 1791 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SONG OF THE SATYRS TO ARIADNE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |