So I wish in heav'n his soul may dwell
That first found out the leather bottel.
Then what do you say to these flagons fine?
Oh, they shall have no praise of mine;
For when a lord is about to dine,
And sends them to be filled with wine,
The man with the flagon doth run away,
Because it is silver most gallant and gay
So I wish in heav'n his soul may dwell
That first found out the leather bottel.
A leather bottel we know is good,
Far better than glasses or cans of wood;
For when a man's at work in the field
Your glasses and pots no comfort will yield;
But a good leather bottel standing by
Will raise his spirits whenever he's dry.
So I wish in heav'n his soul may dwell
That first found out the leather bottel.
At noon the haymakers sit them down,
To drink from their bottles of ale nut-brown;
In summer, too, when the weather is warm,
A good bottle full will do them no harm.
Then the lads and the lasses begin to tottle,
But what would they do without this bottle?
So I wish in heav'n his soul may dwell
That first found out the leather bottel.
Pages:
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50