Saturday, May 04, 2013
In Praise of Ale
When the chill Charokoe blows,
And Winter tells a heavy tale,
And Pies and Daws, and Rooks and crows
Do sit and curse the frost and snows,
Then give me Ale.
Ale in a Saxon Rumkin then,
Such as will make grim Malkin prate,
Bids Valour bargain in tall men,
Quickens the Poets Wits and Pen,
Ale, that the absent Battel fights
And forms the March of Swedish Drums,
Disputes the Princes Laws and Rights,
What's past and done tells mortall Wights,
And what's to come.
Ale, that the Plough-mans heart up keeps,
And equals it to Tyrants Thrones:
That wipes the eye that ever weeps,
And lulls in sweet and dainty sleeps
Their very bones.
Grandchild of Ceres, Bacchus Daughter,
Wines emulous Neighbour, if but stale:
Ennobling all the Nymphs of Water,
And filling each mans heart with laughter,
Oh give me Ale.
Labels: nunc est bibendum