Classic Poem

1

O gag for shame that strumpet muse!
Let not her Spanish tongue abuse
Our wholsome and Heroic English juice

2

'Twas not this loyal liquor shut
Our Gates against our Soveraign, but
Strange drinks into one tub together put

3

When Ale was drink Canonical,
There were no thieves, nor watch, nor wall,
Men neither stole, nor lack'd, for Ale was all.

4

That Poet ought be dry or dumb,
And to our brown-bowles never come,
Who drinking Ale, vents only dregs and scum

5

Nor had that Souldier drunk enough,
For Ale both valour gives and buffe,
Makes men unkickable, and cudgel-proof

6

'I was the meal not mealman was the cause,
The mill fell down, for one small clause
In one meal-act, hath overthrown our lawes

7

The worth of Ale none can proclaim,
But by th'assistance of the same,
From it our Land derives its noblest name.

8

With this men were inspir'd, but not
As kickshaw brains are now (God wot)
Inspir'd, that is, run mad, none knowes with what

9

How did our stout forefathers make,
All Antichristian Nations quake,
When they their Nutbrown bowles and bills did take!

10

What noble sparks old Ale did kindle!
But now strange drinks do make men dwindle,
And Pigmies get, scarce fit to sway a spindle

11

This liquor makes the drinkers fight
Stoutly, while others stoutly write:
This both creates the Poet and the Knight.

12

This makes the drawer in his Gown
And chain to ride and rule the Town,
Whose orient Nose exemplifies his frown

13

How reverently the burly Host
With basket hilted pot and tost,
Commands the bak't meats, and then rules the rost.

14

But oh the Brewer bears the bell!
This makes him to such highnesse swell,
As none but Ale-inspir'd can think or tell.

15

Divert that curse then, or give o're,
Don Phillip can hurt ale no more,
Then his Armado, England heretofore.