He that drinketh strong beer And goes to bed right mellow, Lives as he ought to live And dies a hearty fellow. Come, landlord, fill the flowing bowl Until it does run over, For tonight we'll merry, merry be, For tonight we'll merry, merry be, For tonight we'll merry, merry be, Tomorrow we'll get sober. He that drinketh small beer And goes to bed sober Falls as the leaves do fall That die in dull October. Come, etc. Punch cures the gout, The colic and phthisic; So it is to all men The best of physic. Come, etc. ... He that courts a pretty girl, And courts her for his pleasure, Is a knave unless he marries her Without store or treasure. Come, etc. ... So now let us dance and sing And drive away all sorrow,— For perhaps we may not Meet again tomorrow. Come, landlord, fill the flowing bowl... | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: LYMAN KING by EDGAR LEE MASTERS YOUTH PENETRANT by CONRAD AIKEN ON BEING ASKED TO WRITE A POEM AGAINST THE WAR IN VIETNAM by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE CROSS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ITALIAN PICTURES: THE COSTA SAN GIORGIO by MINA LOY THE SLAVE TRADE: VIEW FROM THE MIDDLE PASSAGE by CLARENCE MAJOR |