Another version here (click) and interesting page of lyrics from Pills to Purge Melancholy, as recorded by Maddy Prior.

---

OLD SIMON THE KING
Words anon. from D'Urfey's Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy 1719-1720.
Tune anon. from The Division Violin 1685 and Humphry Salter's The Genteel Companion 1683

In a humour I was of late,
As many good fellows be;
To think of no matters of State,
But seek for good Company:
That best contended me.
I travell'd up and down;
No Company could I find;
Till I came to the sight of the Crown:
My Hostess was sick of the Mumps,
The Maid was ill at ease,
The Tapster was drunk in his Dumps;
They were all of one disease,
Says old Simon the King.

Considering in my mind,
And thus I began to think;
If a man be full to his throat,
And cannot take off his drink,
If his drink will not down,
He may hang himself for shame;
So may the Tapster at the Crown,
Where all this reason I frame;
Drink will make a Man Drunk,
Drunk will make a Man dry;
Dry will make a Man sick
Sick will make a man die,
Says old Simon the King.

If a Man should be drunk to night,
And laid in his grave to morrow;
Will you or any man say,
That he died of Care or Sorrow ?
Hang up sorrow and care,
`Tis able to kill a Cat,
He that will drink all night,
Is never afraid of that !
Drinking will make a man Quaff,
Quaffing will make a man Sing;
Singing will make a man Laugh,
And laughing long life doth bring,
Says old Simon the King.

If a puritan Skinker cry,
Dear Brother it is a Sin,
To drink unless you be dry,
Then straight this tale I begin,
A Puritan left his Cann,
And took him to his Jugg,
And there he play'd the man,
As long as he could tugg:
When that he was spy'd,
What did he swear or rail;
No, no truly, dear Brother he cry'd,
Indeed all flesh is frail,
Says old Simon the King.

So Fellows, if you'll be drunk,
Of frailty it is a sin,
Or for to keep a punk,
Or play it In and In;
For Drink and Dice and Drabs,
Are all of one condition,
And will breed want and Scabs,
In spite of the Physician:
Who so fears every Grass,
Must never piss in a Meadow,
And he that loves a pot and a Lass,
Must never cry oh ! my head oh !
Says old Simon the King