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Your doctors may boast of their lotions,
And ladies may talk of their tea ; But I envy them none of their potions :
A glass of good stingo for me. The doctor may sneer if he pleases,
But my receipt never will fail ; For the physic that cures all diseases
Is a bumper of Warrington ale.
D'ye mind me, I once was a sailor,
And in different countries I've been ; If I lie, may I go for a tailor,
But a thousand fine sights I have seen. I've been crammed with good things like a wallet,
And I've guzzled more drink than a whale ; But the very best stuff to my palate
Is a glass of your Warrington ale.
When my trade was upon the salt ocean,
Why, there I got plenty of grog, And I liked it, because I'd a notion
It set one's good spirits agog ; But since upon land I've been steering,
Experience has altered my tale, For nothing on earth is so cheering
As a bumper of Warrington ale.
1 From Harland's " Ancient Ballads and Songs of Lancashire."