Rigs o' barley (1820)/The pitcher

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THE PITCHER.

It's not yet day, it' not yet day,
⁠then why should we leave good liquor,
Till the sun beams around as play,
⁠we'll sit and take another pitcher,
The silver moon she shines so bright,
⁠she shines most bright—I swear by Nature,
That if my minute-glass goes right,
⁠we've time to drink the other pitcher.
⁠It's not yet day, &c.

They tell me if I'd work all day,
⁠and sleep by night, I'd grow richer;
But what is all this world's delight,
⁠compar'd with mirth, my friend & pitcher.
It's not yet day, it's not yet day,
⁠then why should we leave good liquor,
'Till the sun beams around us play,
⁠we'll sit and take the other pitcher.
⁠I'ts not yet day, &c.

They tell me Tom has got a wife.
⁠whose portion will make him the richer,
I envy not his happy life,
⁠give me good health, my friend & pitcher.
It's not yet day, it's not yet day,
⁠then why should we leave good liquor,
Till the sun beams around us play,
⁠we'll sit and take the other pitcher.
⁠It's not yet day, &c.

FINIS.