And let me the canakin clink, clink; And let me the canakin clink: A soldier's a man; A life's but a span; Why, then, let a soldier drink. King Stephen was a worthy peer, His breeches cost him but a crown; He held them sixpence all too dear, With that he call'd the tailor lown. He was a wight of high renown, And thou art but of low degree: 'Tis pride that pulls the country down; Then take thine auld cloak about thee. |