The wrongs that you have been done in are strong
And torturous to be hold.  O’ a pain!
A pain of such a lost to you the wrong
To keep in deep hate, unsure to be wane.
Cut by unvalued blade of love’s curl malice
You stand against her vaulting hate abash
But you have been made rough by her callus
Now done away with her vicious backlash
Set free are you to live a life a new
From lover’s quarrels made to new found peace
Of long spent wealth now able to pursue
Endeavors till the day that your heart cease
Look onward my old friend and be joyful
For it is time to pass me another bottle.