Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, BALLAD TO THE TUNE OF 'THE HEALTHS', by PATRICK CAREY

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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

BALLAD TO THE TUNE OF 'THE HEALTHS', by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Come, faith, since I'm parting, and that god knows when
Last Line: Each health still going round.
Subject(s): Farewell; Toasts; Parting


COME, faith, since I'm parting, and that God knows when
The walls of sweet Wickham I shall see again;
Let's e'en have a frolic, and drink like tall men,
Till heads with healths go round.


And first to Sir William, I'll take't on my knee
He well doth deserve that a brimmer it be:
More brave entertainments none ere gave than he;
Then let his health go round.


Next to his chaste lady, who loves him alife;
And whilst we are drinking to so good a wife,
The poor of the parish will pray for her life;
Be sure her health go round.


And then to young Will, the heir of this place;
He'll make a brave man, you may see't in his face;
I only could wish we had more of the race;
At least let his health go round.


To well-grac'd Victoria the next room we owe;
As virtuous she'll prove as her mother, I trow,
And somewhat in housewifery more she will know;
O let her health go round!


To plump Bess, her sister, I drink down this cup:
Birlackins (my masters) each man must take't up;
'Tis foul play (I bar it) to simper and sup,
When such a health goes round.


And now helter-skelter to th' rest of the house,
The most are good fellows, and love to carouse;
Who's not, may go sneak-up; he's not worth a louse,
That stops a health i' th' round.


To th' clerk, so he'll learn to drink in the morn;
To Heynous, that stares when he has quaft up his horn;
To Philip, by whom good ale ne'er was forlorn;
These lads can drink a round.


John Chandler! come on, here's some warm beer for you;
A health to the man that this liquor did brew:
Why, Hewet! there's for thee; nay, take't, 'tis thy due,
But see that it go round.


Hot Coles is on fire, and fain would be quench'd;
As well as his horses the groom must be drench'd;
Who's else? let him speak, if his thirst he'd have stench'd,
Or have his health go round.


And now to the women, who must not be coy.
A glass, Mistress Cary, you know's but a toy;
Come, come, Mistress Sculler, no pardonnez moy,
It must, it must go round.


Dame Nell, so you'll drink, we'll allow [you] a sop.
Up with't, Mary Smith; in your draught never stop.
Law! there now, Nan German has left ne'er a drop,
And so must all the round.


Jane, Joan, Goody Lee, great Meg, and the less,
Ye must not be squeamish, but do as did Bess:
How th' others are nam'd, if I could but guess,
I'd call them to the round.


And now, for my farewell, I drink up this quart;
To you, lads and lasses, e'en with all my heart:
May I find ye ever, as now when we part,
Each health still going round.

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