Sing! Who sings
To her who weareth a hundred rings?
Ah, who is this lady fine?
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Sing! Who sings
To her who weareth a hundred rings?
Ah, who is this lady fine?
The Vine, boys, the Vine!
The mother of the mighty Wine,
A roamer is she
O'er wall and tree
And sometimes very good company.

I hang no ivie out to sell my wine;
The nectar of good wits will sell itself.

I hang no ivie out to sell my wine;
The nectar of good wits will sell itself.

Where the drink goes in, there the wit goes out.

Where the drink goes in, there the wit goes out.

Wine makes all sorts of creatures at table.

Wine makes all sorts of creatures at table.

So Noah, when he anchor'd safe on
The mountain's top, his lofty haven,
And all the passengers read more

So Noah, when he anchor'd safe on
The mountain's top, his lofty haven,
And all the passengers he bore
Were on the new world set ashore,
He made it next his chief design
To plant and propagate a vine,
Which since has overwhelm'd and drown'd
Far greater number, on dry ground,
Of wretched mankind, one by one,
Than all the flood before had done.

Old Simon the cellarer keep a rare store
Of Malmsey and Malvoisie.

Old Simon the cellarer keep a rare store
Of Malmsey and Malvoisie.

"It wasn't the wine," murmured Mr. Snodgrass in a broken voice,
"it was the salmon."

"It wasn't the wine," murmured Mr. Snodgrass in a broken voice,
"it was the salmon."

A medium Vodka dry Martini--with a slice of lemon peel. Shaken
and not stirred.

A medium Vodka dry Martini--with a slice of lemon peel. Shaken
and not stirred.

The wine in the bottell doth not quench thirst.
[The wine in the bottle does not quench thirst.]

The wine in the bottell doth not quench thirst.
[The wine in the bottle does not quench thirst.]