When a man is fatigu'd with the toils of the day,
No med'cine like sherries can drive care away;
Without it, his blood will grow thicker and thicker;
But his pulses flow brisk when refresh'd with good liquor.
Give water to those who, like water, are cold;
'Tis wine, generous wine, that can make my heart bold.
I leave to your sneakers potations so weak,
And stick to old sherries, that crimsons my cheek.