Ale

White flowering o’er the tankard’s crown

Thou boast of every British town

Nicknamed ‘old stout’ & ‘nock em down’—

Old England’s glory:

All hail thou stingo of renown

Ale, I adore thee.

Thou down right death to pain & care

Of them I know I’ve had my share

And most been drove to hell’s despair—

When they’ve distressed me:

But thee I’ve sought at feast & fair

And thou hast blest me.

And though I love thee best of juices

I’ll ne’er go make no vile excuses

For drunkards who thy name abuses—

They’re worse then hogs:

When friend with friend each other bruises

Like lugging dogs.

In public house such brutes of men

When e’re I chance drop down again

I’ll never care to join them then—

Curse on their spite:

I call for half pint to my sen

And let ‘em fight.

O ale, O ale, what soul can ken

The wonders thou performs on men

How thou drivst perking up agen—

The drowking heart:

Like majic spell to grief & pain

Is a full quart.

(Lines 1-24 & 61-66 of Clare’s ‘Ale’)
The poem actually has 174 lines

Anyone know a good rousing tune to which this might be sung?