Salmagundi (Huddesford, 1791)/The Climax

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THE CLIMAX.

Before I came to LondonI us'd to sip Tea with my Mother,And I thought it a treatIf Small-beer I could getTo drink with my Elder Brother.Tol-de-rol, &c.
But my Father condemn'd this practice,He hector'd and swore like mad—Sir:Says he, "Give him Ale,"For that will never fail"To make him as stout as his Dad—Sir."
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Soon after, our Ned the ButlerTook me down to taste some October:—Cried he, "Never fear"To drink Strong-beer,"But swallow it, drunk or sober.
But when I arriv'd in LondonOf Porter I drank my pot—Sir,A pipe did I funk,And so oft got drunkThat my Sister call'd me a Sot—Sir.
From Beer to Wine I ascendedBy a series of just gradation:'Till my friends would me jogWith—"There's a jolly Dog"Soon shall tope with the best of the nation."
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With a Blood then I got acquainted,Who strait prov'd wond'rous handy:For he taught me to swearLike a Grenadier;And always drink Rum or Brandy.
Thus I to Drams betook me,And Wine I drank no longer:Sometimes I threw inGunpowder to my Gin,To make the potion stronger.
But, considering all things earthly,That the span of Life so short is:—Whate'er you may think,I still shall drinkTill I come to Aqua-fortis.Tol-de-roll, &c.
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