Poem by Alexander Brome

The Companion

1.

WHat need we take care for Platonical Rules?
Or the precepts of Aristotle?
They that think to find learning in books are bu• fools,
True Philosophy lies in the bottle.
And a mind
That's confin'd
To the mode of the Schools.
Ne'r arrives at the height of a pottle
Let the sages
Of our ages
Keep a talking
Of our walking,
Demurely, while we that are wiser,
Do abhor all
That's moral
In Plato
And Cato
And Seneca talks like a Sizer.

Chorus.

Then let full bowles on bowles be hurl'd,
That our jollity may be compleater,
For Man though he be but a very little world,
Must be drown'd, as well as the greater.

2.

We'l drink till our cheeks are as starrd' as the skies;
Let the pale-colour'd students flowt us,
And our noses like Comets, set fire on our eyes,
Till we bear the whole heavens about us.
And if all
Make us fall,
Then our heels shall devise
What the stars are a doing without us.
Let Lilly
Go tell you
Of thunders
And wonders,
Let Astrologers all divine;
And let Booker
Be a looker
Of our natures
In our features,
He'l find nothing but Claret in mine.

Chorus. Then let full bowles, &c.

1. To his Mistress (LAdy you'l wonder when you see)
2. The Damosel
3. Plain Dealing
4. The Wary Woer
5. On the Queens Arrival

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