Thou sportive charmer, ever gay,
Whose blushing sweets and radiant smile
Can chase the canker Care away,
And Sorrow of her thorn beguile!
No more I heed fair Julia's eye,
No more I seek to press her lip,
No more her frown shall prompt a sigh,
Whilst I thy cheering sweets can sip:
Her fading charms I pleas'd resign,
Since thou'rt my mistress, generous Wine!

Let Fortune's vot'ries round her press,
And Folly's sons her favours own;
How few the goddess deigns to bless,
How many sink beneath her frown!
Vain mortals! wealth for you can't buy
Health's roseate hue, or lasting peace,
Nor cheat the bosom of a sigh--
For riches but our cares increase:
Nor Love nor Wealth shall make me pine,
Whilst thou'rt my mistress, generous Wine!