 | Poems on several occasions |  |
127
BOWLEY's ALE.
The balmy sweet, the luscious draught,
Sure no man can reveal;
Unless he has a bumper quaft
Of Bowley's sparkling ale.
Sure no man can reveal;
Unless he has a bumper quaft
Of Bowley's sparkling ale.
There youthful swains and nymphs so tight,
Jocund each other hail!
By Sunday's cloathing render'd bright,
Yet more by Bowley's ale.
Jocund each other hail!
By Sunday's cloathing render'd bright,
Yet more by Bowley's ale.
Nor can the health-set clown forbear,
After his hearty meal;
But longs to taste the well-known fare
Of Bowley's nappy ale.
After his hearty meal;
But longs to taste the well-known fare
Of Bowley's nappy ale.
128
The plodding tradesman, weary grown,
At night seeks a regale,
To ease his toil, by Care full-blown,
In draught of Bowley's ale.
At night seeks a regale,
To ease his toil, by Care full-blown,
In draught of Bowley's ale.
Let poets boast that to the spring
Of Helicon they steal;
My Muse contented here can sing,
Refresh'd by Bowley's ale.
Of Helicon they steal;
My Muse contented here can sing,
Refresh'd by Bowley's ale.
| Poems on several occasions | |