Bring Us in Good Ale

Submit, bunch of grapes,
To the strong barley-ear;
The weak vine no longer
The laurel shall wear:
Sack, and all drinks else,
Desist from the strife;
Ale's th' only aqua vita:
And liquor of life.

Then come, my boon fellows,
Let's drink it around;
It keeps us from th' grave,
Though it lays us o' th' ground.

Ale's a physician,
No mountebank bragger,
Can cure the chill ague,
Though 't be with the stagger.

Ale's a strong wrestler,
Flings all it hath met,
And makes the ground slippery
Though 't be not wet.

But come, my boon, &c.

Ale is both Ceres
And good Neptune too;
Ale's froth was the sea
From whence Venus grew.

Ale is immortal,
And be there no stops
In bonny lads' quaffing,
Can live without hops.

Then come, my boon fellows,
Let's drink it around;
It keeps us from th' grave,
Though it lays us o' th' ground.