there a big-belly'd bottle still eases my care.
the wife of my bosom, alas! she did die;
for sweet consolation to church i did fly;
i found that old solomon proved it fair,
that a big-belly'd bottle's a cure for all care.
i once was persuaded a venture to make;
a letter inform'd me that all was to wreck;
but the pursy old landlord just waddl'd upstairs,
with a glorious bottle that ended my cares.
“life's cares they areforts”—a maxim laid down
by the bard, what d'ye call him, that wore the black gown;
and faith i agree with th' old prig to a hair,
for a big-belly'd bottle's a heav'n of a care.