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Abraham Cowley
1618 -1667
( )


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Drinking
Cheer up, my mates

 


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Drinking

THE thirsty earth soaks up the rain,
And drinks and gapes for drink again;
The plants suck in the earth, and are
With constant drinking fresh and fair;
The sea itself (which one would think
Should have but little need of drink)
Drinks twice ten thousand rivers up,
So fill'd that they o'erflow the cup.
The busy Sun (and one would guess
By 's drunken fiery face no less)
Drinks up the sea, and when he 's done,
The Moon and Stars drink up the Sun:
They drink and dance by their own light,
They drink and revel all the night:
Nothing in Nature 's sober found,
But an eternal health goes round.
Fill up the bowl, then, fill it high,
Fill all the glasses there--for why
Should every creature drink but I?
Why, man of morals, tell me why?


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Cheer up, my mates, thde wind does fairly blow;
Clap on more sail, and never spare;
Farewell, all lands, for now we are
In the wide sea of drink, and merrily we go.

Bless me, 'tis hot! another boel of wine,
And we shall cut the burning line:
Hey, boys! she scuds away, and by my head I know
We round the world are sailing now.

What dull men are those who tarry at home,
When abroad they might wantonly roam,
And gain such experience, and spy, too,
Such countries and wonders, as I do!

But pr'ythee good pilot, take heed what you do,
And fail not to touch at Peru!
With gold there the vessel we'll store,
And never be poor
No, never be poor any more!


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