Glen Collection of printed music > Printed music > Wit and mirth, or, Pills to purge melancholy > Volume 3

146 Songs Compleat,
Or suppose that some sot, should lurk in this pot,
To scatter out words that might hurt us ;
To free that same doubt, we'll see all the pot out,
And then we shall speak to the purpose.
If any man here be in bodily fear,
Of a Wolf, a Wife or a Tweak ;
Here's Armour of proof, shall keep her a loofe,
Here's Liquor will make a man speak :
Or if any enter to challenge his Friend,
Or rail at a Lord that might hurt us,
Let him drink once or twice of this Helico?i juice,
And then he shall speak to the purpose.
He that rails at the times, in Prose or in Rhimes,
Doth bark like a Dog at the Moon ;
Sings, Prophesies strange, and threatens some change,
And hangs them upon the Queens Tomb :
He is but a Rayler, or Prophecying Taylor,
To scatter out words that might hurt us,
Let's talk of no matches, but drink and sing Catches,
And then we shall speak to the purpose.
It is a mad zeal for a Man to reveal,
His secret thoughts when he bouses ;
He is but a Widgeon, that talks of Religion,
In Taverns or in tipling houses :
It is not for us, such things to discourse,
Let's talk of nothing that might hurt us ;
But let's begin a new health to our King,
And then we shall speak to the purpose.
Amidst of our bliss 'twill not be a miss,
To talk of our going home late ;
If Constable Kite or a Pis-pot at night,
Should chance to be split on our pate :
It were all in vain to rage or complain,
Or scatter out words that might hurt us,
'Twere better to trudge home, to honest kind yoan,
And then we shall speak to the purpose.
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