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A Tankard of Ale
By C. W. Dalmon
Some choose to worship in the church;
Some choose to worship in the chapels; But we will worship by ourselves
In orchards full of cider apples.
Who sends their blossom in the Spring ?
Who sets it in the Summer weather ? Who ripens them at Autumn time ?
'Tis Him we'll worship all together !
And they may mock us in the church ;
And they may jeer us in the chapels; But we will listen unto Him
Who loads the trees with cider apples.
A CIDER SONG
By G. K. Chesterton
The wine they drink in Paradise They make in Haute Lorraine ; God brought it burning from the sod To be a sign and signal rod That they that drink the blood of God Shall never thirst again.