Drunkenness - Momus

Hufty tufty the cap gun shouts

Your whole life is inside out

A cast of martinets, a whiff of Monsieur Mingo

Horse outside, going down to Sligo

So slaver and drivel like a child at mouth

No more of this drunkenness

In slavish Bacchus-born, I hate it to death

Drunkenness

Thy scurvy lungs with surfeiting be putrified

Thy wrath be fatal to thy dearest friends

A toucher, a toucher, for quaffing toy doth pass

In cup, in can, in glass, drunkenness

God Bacchus do him right and dub him knight

Rise up Sir Robert Tosspot, Sir Robert Tosspot

No more of this, I hate it to the death

Drunkenness

Deformer of the soul, abusing all the earth’s fine fruits

In cellars and in vaults

Let none commit their counsels unto thee

Thy wrath be fatal to them, drunkenness

Dropsies and watery tympanies haunt thee

Thy lungs with surfeiting be putrified

Odious stinking breath

Slaver and drivel like a child at mouth

Drunkenness

Be poor and beggardly in thy old age

Let thy own kinsmen laugh when thou complainest

And many tears gain nothing but blind scoffs

Drunkenness

Hufty tufty the cap gun shouts

Your whole life is inside out

Drunkenness