A Ballad on Ale

Whilst some in Epic streams delight,
Whilst others Pastorals invite,
As taste or whim prevail;
Assist me, all ye tuneful Nine,
Support me in the great design,
To sing of nappy ale.

Some folks of Cyder make a rout,
And Cyder's well enough, no doubt,
When better liquors fail;
But wine, that's richer, better still,
Ev'n wine itself (deny't who will)
Must yield to nappy ale.

Rum, brandy, gin, with choicest smack
From Holland brought, Batavia 'arrack,
All these will nought avail
To cheer a truly British heart,
And lively spirits to impart,
Like humming nappy ale.

Oh! whether thee I closely hug
In honest can, or nut-brown jug,
Or in the tankard hail;
In barrel, or in bottle pent,
I give the gen'rous spirit vent,
Still may I feast on ale.

But chief when to the cheerful glass,
From vessel pure thy streamlets pass,
Then most thy charms prevail;
Then, then, I'll bet and take the odds,
That nectar, drink of heathen gods,
Was poor, compared to ale.

Give me a bumper, fill it up.
See how it sparkles in the cup,
O how shall I regale!
Can any taste this drink divine,
And then compare rum, brandy, wine,
Or aught with nappy ale?

Inspired by thee the warrior fights,
The lover wooes, the poet writes,
And pens the pleasing tale;
And still in Britain's isle confess'd
Nought animates the patriot's breast
Like gen'rous nappy ale.

High church and low oft raise a strife,
And oft endanger limb and life,
Each studious to prevail;
Yet Whig and Tory opposite
In all things else do both unite
In praise of nappy ale.

Inspired by thee shall Crispin sing,
Or talk of freedom, church, and king,
And balance Europe's scale;
While his rich landlord lays out his schemes
Of wealth, in golden South Sea dreams,
Th' effects of nappy ale.

O blest potation! still by thee,
And thy companion Liberty,
Do health and mirth prevail;
Then let us crown the can, the glass,
And sportive bid the minutes pass
In quaffing nappy ale.

Ev'n while these stanzas I indite,
The bar-bell's grateful sounds invite
Where joy can never fail!
Adieu! my muse adieu! I haste
To gratify my longing taste,
With copious draughts of ALE.