Robert Burns

“ Tune: Prepare, my dear Brethren, to the tavern let's fly.
No churchman am I for to rail and to write,
No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight,
No sly man of business contriving a snare,
For a big-belly'd bottle's the whole of my care.
The peer I don't envy, I give him his bow;
I scorn not the peasant, though ever so low;
But a club of good fellows, like those that are here,
And a bottle like this, are my glory and care. ”

“ I found that old Solomon proved it fair,
That a big-belly'd bottle's a cure for all care. ”