What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Ale mak ancient Bacchus Ballads beer Ben Jonson black bole blysse bottles bowl boys Bryng us home butler balla moy called Canary century chyld claret copy curious doth drunk drynke edition fill Fore forto gallon Garrick Collection gentle butler balla glass gosyp gret harvest home hath Here's History honour husbondes I-ho Jack JAMES PRIOR Jhesu jolly King kyng lady liquor London Lord maid Malmsey mane merrily merry mery mirth Muscadell muscadine ne'er never PERCY SOCIETY Pleasant pottle printed purest wine quart Roxburgh Ballads sack says sche shal shewed Sing gentle butler song stryfe syng tavern thee ther Therfor Thomas Thou hast thyng tinker Tom Long Tom Thumb Tommy Potts tosse the pot Tyrle wassailing wassel We'l Whan Who's the foole wife wold women wood-cuts wyfe wyll wyne
Page 26 - I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself but thee!
Page 25 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine ; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not ask for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine ; But, might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Page vii - And let me the canakin clink, clink; And let me the canakin clink A soldier's a man; A life's but a span; Why, then, let a soldier drink.
Page 67 - Whittington, which was pretty to see ; and how that idle thing do work upon people that see it, and even myself too ! And thence to Jacob Hall's dancing on the ropes, where I saw such action as I never saw before, and mightily worth seeing ; and here took acquaintance with a fellow that carried...
Page xl - On your right wrist — Sub. Open a vein with a pin. And let it suck but once a week; till then, You must not look on't. Dol. No: and kinsman, Bear yourself worthy of the blood you come on. Sub. Her grace would have you eat no more Woolsack pies, Nor Dagger frumety.
Page 65 - I am credibly informed, that there was once a design of casting into an opera the story of Whittington and his Cat, and that in order to it, there had been got together a great quantity of mice ; but Mr. Rich, the proprietor of the playhouse, very prudently considered that it would be impossible for the cat to kill them all, and that consequently the princes of the stage might be as much infested with mice, as the prince of the island was before the cat's arrival upon it; for which reason he would...
Page 30 - And here, kind mate, to thee! Let's sing a dirge for Saint Hugh's soul, And down it merrily!
Page liv - The thirsty earth soaks up the rain, And drinks, and gapes for drink again. The plants suck in the earth, and are With constant drinking fresh and fair. The sea itself, which one would think Should have but little need of drink, Drinks twice ten thousand rivers up, So fill'd that they o'erflow the cup.