A Careless Shoe String, In Whose Tie

Well I Sup And Well I Dine, When I Drink My Frolic Wine.

O Thou, The Drink Of Gods And Angels! Wine

Then Be Not Coy, But Use Your Time; And While Ye May, Go Marry: For Having Lost But Once Your Prime, You May For Ever Tarry.

I Dare Not Ask A Kiss; I Dare Not Beg A Smile; Lest Having That Or This, I Might Grow Proud The While. No, No, The Utmost Share Of My Desire Shall Be Only To Kiss That Air, That Lately Kissed Thee.

A Little Saint Best Fits A Little Shrine, A Little Prop Best Fits A Little Vine, As My Small Cruse Best Fits My Little Wine.