| |
| SO, the powder ’s low, and the larder ’s clean, | |
| And surrender drapes, with its blacks impending, | |
| All the stage for a sorry and sullen scene: | |
| Yet indulge me my whim of a madcap ending! | |
| |
| Let us once more fill, ere the final chill, | 5 |
| Every vein with the glow of the rich canary! | |
| Since the sweet hot liquor of life ’s to spill, | |
| Of the last of the cellar what boots be chary? | |
| |
| Then hear the conclusion: I ’ll yield my breath, | |
| But my leal old house and my good blade never! | 10 |
| Better one bitter kiss on the lips of Death | |
| Than despoiled Defeat as a wife forever! | |
| |
| Let the faithful fire hold the walls in ward | |
| Till the roof-tree crash! Be the smoke once riven | |
| While we flash from the gate like a single sword, | 15 |
| True steel to the hilt, though in dull earth driven! | |
| |
| Do you frown, Sir Richard, above your ruff, | |
| In the Holbein yonder? My deed ensures you! | |
| For the flame like a fencer shall give rebuff | |
| To your blades that blunder, you Roundhead boors, you! | 20 |
| |
| And my ladies, a-row on the gallery wall, | |
| Not a sing-song sergeant or corporal sainted | |
| Shall pierce their breasts with his Puritan ball, | |
| To annul the charms of the flesh, though painted! | |
| |
| I have worn like a jewel the life they gave; | 25 |
| As the ring in mine ear I can lightly lose it. | |
| If my days be done, why, my days were brave! | |
| If the end arrive, I as master choose it! | |
| |
| Then fill to the brim, and a health, I say, | |
| To our liege King Charles, and I pray God bless him! | 30 |
| ’T would amend worse vintage to drink dismay | |
| To the clamorous mongrel pack that press him! | |
| |
| And a health to the fair women, past recall, | |
| That like birds astray through the heart’s hall flitted; | |
| To the lean devil Failure last of all, | 35 |
| And the lees in his beard for a fiend outwitted! | |
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