Up the mountains, o'er the vales, Thro' the woods, and down the dales; Your bowls fhall doubly overflow.. So chear'd, with more officious hafte And names as oft the red reward. The plants refresh'd, new leaves appear, The thick'ning clufters load the year; The grapes hung dangling deep with blue.. And now the vintage early trod, The wines invite the jovial God. Strow Strow the roses, raise the fong, See the mafter comes along; Lufty Revel join'd with Laughter, Whim and Frolic follow after : The Fauns afide the vats remain To show the work, and reap the gain. They fit to riot on the ground; A veffel stands amidst the ring, And here they laugh, and there they fing; Or rife a jolly jolly band, And dance about it hand in hand; Dance about, and shout amain, Then fit to laugh, and fing again. Thus they drink, and thus they play But as an ancient Author fung, A twang of brutal nature too; 'Twas 'Twas hence in drinking on the lawns This wounds a friend, and that the trees; Another grins, and leaps about, And keeps a merry world of rout, And twenty talk the same as he : Chatt'ring, idle, airy, kind: These take the monkey's turn of mind. Here one, that faw the Nymphs which stood, To peep upon them from the wood, Steals off to try if any maid Be lagging late beneath the fhade In naked nature's plainest phrases, And every glass he drinks enjoys, With change of nonsense, luft and noise; Mad Mad and careless, hot and vain : Such as these the goat retain. Another drinks and cafts it up, And drinks, and wants another cup; Ever long, and ever late, Full of meats, and full of wine: This takes his temper from the swine. Here fome who hardly feem to breathe, Drink, and hang the jaw beneath, Their nature's alter'd by the fheep. 'Twas thus one autumn all the crew (If what the Poets say be true) And fince, 'tis faid, for many a mile |