They talk about their foreign wines — Champagne and bright Moselle,
And think because they're from abroad that we must like them well
And of their wholesome qualities they tell a wondrous tale;
But sour or sweet they cannot beat a glass of old English ale.

Chorus

So come what will, boys, drink it still
Your cheeks 'twill never pale.
Their foreign stuff is well enough,
But give me old English ale,
My boys,
But give me old English ale.

When schoolboy friends meet once again, who have not met for years,
Say over what will they sit down and talk of their careers,
Your " wishy-washy " wines won't do, and fiery spirits fail,
For nothing blends the hearts of friends like good old English ale.
Chorus . So come what will, etc.

Dy'e think my eye would be as bright, my heart as light and gay,
If I and " old John Barleycorn " did not shake hands each day?
No, no; and though teetotallers at malt and hops may rail,
At them I'll laugh and gaily quaff my glass of old English ale.
Chorus . So come what will, etc.