Classic Poem

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.

Into France I have oftentimes followed,
And once took a trip into Spain;
And all kinds of liquors I've swallowed,
From spring water up to champagne.
But the richest of wines to my thinking,
Compared with good stingo is stale;
For there's nothing in life that's worth drinking
Like a bumper of Warrington ale.