SONG SUNG TO MOMUS DINNERS .

That Momus, god of good verses
Is the friend of Epicurus.
I want to wear his rosary
Hanging from my belt.
Paying tribute
A Attribute
Falotte its gaiety,
From hand to hand,
Until tomorrow,
We spend the hobby.

The hobby of kings scepter
Opposes his power;
Momus gives the finger
Of greater than one incense.
Cheerfully knock
Fools and knaves
In headphones, miter, chainmail.
From hand to hand,
Until tomorrow,
We spend the hobby.

That fat is the eagle shows:
A doctor feels amber;
A valet change his stripes
Without changing anteroom
Paris, prone
Line malignant
With us tosses.
From hand to hand,
Until tomorrow,
We spend the hobby.

But the puppet to his court
Beauty wants us to use;
This is one of the rattles of Love
Venus and amused.
His joyful noise
Often impressed
The actress and devout
From hand to hand,
Until tomorrow,
We spend the hobby.

It combines with tambourine
The god of the harvest,
When to cure black sorrow,
Flowing wine unmixed.
Yes, its bells
Make big waves
Gush this antidote.
From hand to hand,
Until tomorrow,
We spend the hobby.

Point of guests lazy,
Friends, because it seems
That friendship blesses everyone
That assembles fad.
Young at heart
Together we laughed,
Then we all drool.
From hand to hand,
Until tomorrow,
We spend the hobby.

At the sound of bells, in this place,
So sing your mass.
The assistant priest and god
Inspire joy,
From a gay chorus
At the lectern,
For that follow the note:
From hand to hand,
Until tomorrow,
We spend the hobby.