6
Ca'l the drawer, let him fill it
fou, as ever it can hold:
O tak tent ye dinna spill it,
'tis mair precious far than gold.
By you're drunk a dozen bumpers,
Bacchus will begin to prove
Spite of Venus and her super,
drinking better is than love.
A SUP OF GOOD WHISKY.
A sup of good whisky will make you glad,
Too much of the creature will make you mad;
If you take in resson 't will make you wise:
If you drink to excess it will close up your eyes;
Yet Father and Mother,
And Sister and Brother,
They all love sup in their turn.
Some preachers will tell you to drink is bail,
I thick so too———if there's a one to be had;
The Swadler will bid you drink none at all;
But while I can get it a fig for them all;
Both Layman and Brother,
In spite of th's pother,
Will take s sup in their turn.
