Drinking songs celebrating conviviality perhaps seldom achieve poetic distinction, but Shakespeare’s from “Antony and Cleopatra” is surely an exception:
Come, thou monarch of the vine,
Plumpy Bacchus, with pink eyne!
In thy fats our cares be drowned,
With thy grapes our hairs be crowned:
Cup us, till the world go round,
Cup us, till the world go round!