Shewing how Glasses, and Pots are laid aside, And Flaggons and Noggins they cannot abide; And let all Wives do what they can, 'Tis for the Praise and Use of Man; And this you may very well be sure, The Leather Bottel will longest endure; And I wish in Heaven his Soul may dwell That first devised the Leather Bottel To the Tune of _The Bottle Maker's Delight_, &c. God above that made all things, [104.] The Heavens, the Earth, and all therein, The Ships that on the Sea do Swim, To keep Enemies out that none comes in; And let them do all what they can, 'Tis for the Use and Praise of Man. _And I wish in Heaven his Soul may dwell That first devised the Leather Bottel._ Then what do you say to these Cans of Wood? In faith they are, and can, not be good; For when a Man he doth them send To be filled with Ale, as he doth intend; The Bearer falleth down by the way. And on the ground the Liquor doth lay; And then the Bearer begins to ban, And swears it is long of the Wooden Can. But had it been the Leather Bottel, Although he had fallen, yet all had been well _Then I Wish &c._ [Illustration] Then what do you say to these Glasses fine? Yes, they shall have no Praise of mine; For when a Company they are set For to be merry, as we are met; Then if you chance to touch the Brim, Down falls the Liquor and all therein, If your Table Cloath be never so fine, There lies your Beer, Ale, or Wine: It may be for a small Abuse, A young Man may his Service lose; But had it been a Leather Bottel, And the Stopple in, then all had been well. _And I wish &c_ Then what do you say these black Pots three? True, they shall have no praise of me, For when a Man and his Wife falls at Strife, As many have done, I know, in their Life; They lay their Hands on the Pot both, And loth they are to lose their Broath; The one doth tug, the other doth hill, Betwixt them both the Liquor doth spill; But they shall answer another Day, For casting their liquor so vainly away; But had it been in the Leather Bottel, They might have tugg'd till their Hearts did ake, And yet their Liquor no harm could take; They might have tugg'd till their Hearts did ake. _Then I wish &c_ Then what do you say to the Silver Flaggons fine? True, they shall have no Praise of mine; For when a Lord he doth them send To be filled with Wine as he doth intend; The Man with the Flaggon he doth run away, Because it is Silver most gallant and gay: O then the Lord he begins to ban, And swears he hath lost both Flaggon and Man; There's never a Lord's Serving-man or Groom, But with his Leather Bottel may come; _Then I wish &c_