Or merry swains, who quaff the nut-brown ale, and sing enamoured of the nut-brown maid.

Filled with mingled cream and amber I will drain that glass again. Such hilarious visions clamber Through the chambers of my brain -- Quaintest thoughts -- queerest fancies Come to life and fade away; Who cares how time advances? I am drinking ale today.

Merrily taking twopenny ale and cheese with a pocket knife; / But these were luxuries not for him who went for the Simple Life.

Ale, man, ale's the stuff to drink for fellows whom it hurts to think.

St George he was for England, / And before he killed the dragon / He drank a pint of English ale / Out of an English flagon.

Then to the spicy nut-brown ale.