Wine, wine in a morning makes us frolick and gay
that like eagles we soar in the pride of the day;
Gouty sots in the night only find a decay.
'Tis the sun ripes the grapes and to drinking gives light :
We imitate him when by noon we're at height;
They steal wine who take it when he's out of sight.
Boy, fill all the glasses, fill'em up now he shines,
The higher he rises, the more he refines;
But wine and wit palls aas their maker declines.