Alexander Brome (Александр Бром)
A Mock-Song (HAng up Mars)
HAng up Mars And his wars, Give us drink, We'l tipple my Lads together; Those are slaves, Fools and knaves, That have chink, And must pay, For what they say, Do, or think, Good fellows accompt for neither; Be we round, be we square, We are happier than they're Whose dignity works their ruin: He that well the bowl rears, Can baffle his cares, And a fig for death or undoing.
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