From WOODSTOCK

BRING the bowl which you boast,

Fill it up to the brim; 'Tis to him we love most,

And to all who love him.

Brave gallants, stand up,

And avaunt ye, base carles!

Were there death in the cup,
Here's a health to King Charles.

Though he wanders through dangers,
Unaided, unknown,
Dependent on strangers,
Estranged from his own;
Though 'tis under our breath,
Amidst forfeits and perils,

Here's to honour and faith,

And a health to King Charles!

Let such honours abound

As the time can afford,
The knee on the ground,
And the hand on the sword;
But the time shall come round

When, 'mid Lords, Dukes, and Earls,

The loud trumpet shall sound,

Here's a health to King Charles!