The poem
Painter, would you make my picture? Just forget the moral stricture. Let me sit With my belly to the table, Swilling all the wine I'm able, Pip a-lit; Not a stiff and stuffy croaker In a frock coat and a choker Let me be; But a rollicking old fellow With a visage ripe and mellow As you see.
Just a twinkle-eyed old codger, And of death as artful dodger, Such I am; I defy the Doc's advising And I don't for sermonising Care a damn. Though Bill Shakespeare had in his dome Both - I'd rather wit than wisdom For my choice; In the glug glug of the bottle, As I tip it down my throttle, I rejoice.
Paint me neither sour not soulful, For I would not have folks doleful When I go; So if to my shade you're quaffing I would rather see you laughing, As you know. In Life's Great Experiment I'll have heaps of merriment E're I pass; And though devil beckons me, And I've many a speck on me, Maybe some will recon me - Worth a glass.