Drink till after twelve or more,
Live it up with madmen !
Earth is but my chamber floor
And the sun my lantern.
Nothing else is worth a pin
If my head but giddy spin,
Giddy spin, giddy spin,
Giddy spin, giddy spin,
Until it's so drowsy
Nothing more can rouse me.
In my grandad's overcoat,
Torn and out at elbows,
Here I stand, on brandy dote,
'Mid the queerest fellows;
Out of pretty goblets bright
Tipple morning noon and night,
Noon and night, noon and night,
Noon and night, noon and night,
Till I'm just another
Boozy red-nosed brother.
If my sainted father stood
Suddenly before me
"Son", he'd hiccup, "skål ! That's good,
Brandy best doth warm me."
"Brother mine," I'd then reply,
Let us toast the morning sky,
Morning sky, morning sky,
Morning sky, morning sky,
Then to thy repose, sir,
Thou again mayst go, sir."
Were I but a man of wealth,
Gold my pocket lining,
Christmas day I'd dress myself
Like the king, when dining.
Then I'd purchase and I'd use
Coat and waistcoat and new shoes,
New shoes, new shoes,
New shoes, new shoes,
And of course I'd buy, sir,
A watch upon my thigh, sir !
But my throat can't stand such loss,
'Tis a very drought, sir.
What is gold, when got, but dross ?
Pull the cork right out, sir !
Let us steady on our legs,
Drain this bottle to the dregs,
To the dregs, to the dregs,
To the dregs, to the dregs,
Then let death attack us
In the blood of Bacchus.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem