THE Courtier's Health; OR The merry BOYS of the TIMES  
He that loves Sack, doth nothing lack,  
If he but Loyal be,  
He that denies Bacchus' supplies  
Shows mere Hypocrisy.  
To a new Tune, Come Boys fill us a Bumper, Or My Lodging is on the Cold ground.  

Here she stands and fills it out amain,  
Says they let's have the tother 'Bout again.   

COme boys fill us a Bumper,  
we'll make the Nation Roar,  
She's grown sick of a Rumper  
that sticks on the old score.  
Pox on Phanatticks rout 'em,  
they thirst for our blood,  
We'll Taxes raise without 'em,  
and drink for the Nations good.  
Fill the Pottles and Gallons  
and bring the Hogshead in,  
We'll begin with a Tallen  
a brimmer to the KING.   

Round around, fill a fresh one,  
let no man bawk his Wine,  
We'll drink to the next in Succession,  
and keep it in the Right Line,  
Bring us ten thousand glasses,  
the more we drink we're a dry,  
We mind not the beautiful Lasses,  
whose Conquest lies all in the eye.  
Charge the Pottles and Gallons  
and bring the Hogshead in,  
We'll begin with a Tallen  
a brimmer to the KING   

WE Boys are truly Loyal,  
for Charles we'll venture all,  
We know his blood is Royal,  
his Name shall never fall.  
But those that seek his ruin  
may chance to die before him,  
While we that Sack are woeing,  
for ever will adore him;  
Fill the Pottles and Gallons  
and bring the Hogshead in,  
We'll begin with a Tallen  
a Brimmer to the KING,   

I hate those strange dissenters  
that strives to bawk a glass,  
He that at all Adventures  
will see what comes to pass:  
And let the Popish Faction  
disturb us if they can,  
They ne'er shall breed distraction  
in a true hearted man.  
Fill the Pottles and Gallons  
and bring the Hogshead in,  
We'll begin with a Tallen  
a Brimmer to the KING.   

Let the Phanatticks grumble  
to see things cross their grain,  
We'll make them now more humble  
or ease them of their pain:  
They shall drink Sack amain too  
as else they shall be choked,  
We'll tell 'em 'tis in vain too  
for us to be provoked.  
Fill the Pottles and Gallons  
and bring the Hogshead in,  
We'll begin with a Tallen  
a Brimmer to the KING.   

He that denies the Brimmer  
shall banished be in this Isle,  
And we will look more grimmer  
till he begins to smile:  
We'll drowned him in Canary  
and make him all our own,  
And when his Heart is merry  
he'll drink to Charles in's Throne;  
Fill the Pottles and Gallons  
and bring the Hogshead in,  
We'll begin with a Tallen  
a Brimmer to the KING.   

Quakers and Annabaptist  
we'll sink them in a glass,  
He deals most plain and flattest  
that says he loves a Lass:  
Then tumble down Canary  
and let your brains go round,  
For he that won't be merry  
he can't at heart be sound;  
Fill the Pottles and Gallons  
and bring the Hogshead in,  
We'll begin with a Tallen  
a Brimmer to the KING.    

Printed for P. Brooksby at the Golden Ball in West-Smithfield▪