Читать книгу Modern Street Ballads - John Ashton - Страница 20

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For I likes a drop of good beer, I does, I’se pertickler fond of my beer, I is, And —— his eyes, whoever he tries To rob a poor man of his beer.

Let Ministers shape the Duty on Cape,

And cause Port wine to be dear,

So that they keep, the bread and meat cheap,

And gie us a drop of good beer.

In drinking of rum, the maggots will come,

And soon bald pates will appear;

I never goes out, but I carries about,

My little pint noggin of beer.

My wife and I, feel always dry,

At market on Saturday night,

Then a noggin of beer, I never need fear,

For my wife always says it is right.

In harvest field, there’s nothing can yield,

The labouring man such good cheer,

To reap and sow, and make barley grow,

And to give them a skinfull of beer.

The farmer’s board will plenty afford,

Let it come from far, or from near,

And at harvest home, the jug will foam,

If he gives his men plenty of beer.

Long may Queen Victoria reign,

And be to her subjects dear,

And we’ll wallop her foes, wherever we goes,

Only give us a skinfull of beer.