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Drinking Song
They drank by day, they drank by night, And when they marshalled for the fight Each put a score of foes to flight— Then drank like anything !
No warrior worth his salt But quaffs the mighty malt— But quaffs the mighty malt, my boys, But quaffs the mighty malt / |
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When Patrick into Ireland went
The works of God to do, It was his excellent intent
To teach men how to brew. The holy saint had in his train A man of splendid heart and brain— A brewer was this worthy swain—
To teach men how to brew.
The snakes he drove away Were teetotallers they say— Teetotallers they say, my boysy Teetotallers they say / |
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167 |
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