I heard Lord Bacchus try to sing
discordant sad and long laments
of eternal thirsts unquenched
that to his blood red eyes did bring
a tear for all those sorry souls
who to his world of vineyard’s old
gave all their dreams so cheaply spent
in trade for those his kisses lent.

yet on the dire and sunken host
such melancholic ayrs are lost
as they pay gladly all that costs
and to Lord Bacchus spend the most.