http://www.box.net/shared/7ia5ytam8k
Pox on the temptation,
If one has occasion,
'Tis the sad delusion
Of women and wine.
It raises the passion,
Stupifies the reason,
And makes a man simply
Spend his good time.
But let us be jolly,
And drown melancholy,
Let us join our voices,
In one vocal song.
And as 'tis intended,
Let it be commended,
'Tis a recreation
For a weary mind.
No more of your speeches,
Nor talking of riches,
But let us have music
Of the highest strain.
Come tune up your fiddle,
Bass, counter and treble,
And play the first part,
Of the humours o' glen.
.
.
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