Dearest Theophile

Dearest Theophile, my peer
I show my hand in this court's rite
Thou art ripe now, O brother bright
With robust belly near!
Clasp thy hands and do not fear
My disciple, steadfast in sight
Claim thy master's letter aright
In the tavern, cheer
Put on thy hat, grumble loud
The bottle sings 'gainst the wall proud
Free Monday, shout clear!
Joy to the good end of the week!

Honored Theophile, my friend
Follow Bacchus close and tight
Toss thy brass comb with delight
Take thy cane in hand
Tie thy cravat with ribbon grand
Hang thy chain with a swaggering flight
It's the fifth year in our land
Where thou dost command
Hold thy nose high, bold and free
See how legs splay with glee!
Thy evening star's decree
Shall light at sunset's stand

Dearest Theophile, thou art dear
Thy bellows let blood flow
Patch thy eye, let healing show
Bacchus himself appears
Lead white and silver glitters bestow
Be not like a woman, know
Thy nose shall once be cleft below
By corporals' shears
At weddings and balls they stand
Thou art a fateful hand
Drink, my Cavalier, grand

Beloved Theophile, thou art near
With the glass I thee pursue
Thy head I soak through and through
Making thee bold and sure
Slaps resound with cheer so true
Thy ears and nose cover due
I ask thee never to eschew
A fresh and sprightly humor
He who grabs the wreath so fair
Who wouldst break thy laurel's air
Be not weaker, declare
Strike him till he's no more

Strike the anvil in the brow, hey!
And run, seize thy tankard fine
Drink, swear, and curse malign
For revenge, thou knave
Seize the glass, let it entwine
Bacchus himself shall thee enshrine
Hold thy hand to thy brow, combine
Fight like a Turk, brave
Good heavy woe and weather!
Always full, hungry never
I know no better endeavor
Thou cobbler's rogue, deprave!