By A.E. Houseman
(Yes I really did memorize this one when I was 13. I was bored the last day of school.)
"Terrence this is stupid stuff
You eat your victuals fast enough
There can't be much amiss tis clear
To see the rate you drink your beer
But oh good Lord the verse you make
It gives a chap the Belly ache
The Cow the old cow she is dead,
it sleeps well the horned head
We poor lads tis our turn now,
to hear such tunes as killed the cow
Pretty friendship tis to ryhme
Your friends to death before their time
Moping Melonchaly Mad!
Come pip a tune to dance to lad!"
Why if tis dancing you would be,
There's brisker pipes than poetry
Say for what where hopyards meant
Or why was Burton built on Trent
And Malt does more than Milton can
To justify God's way to man
Ale man, ale's the stuff to drink
For fellows whom it hurts to think
Look into the pewter pot
To see the world as the world's not
And faith tis pleasant till tis past
The mischief is that twill not last
Oh I have been to Ludlow fair
And lost my necktie God knows where
And carried halfway home or near
Pints and Quarts of Ludlow beer
Then the world seem none so bad
And I myself a sterling lad
And down in lovely muck I've lain
Happy till I woke again
And then I saw the morning sky
High-oh the tail was all lie
The world it was the old world yet
I was I, my things were wet
And nothing now remained to do
But begin the game anew
Therefore since the world has yet still,
Much good, but much less good than ill
And while the sun and moon endure,
Lucks a chance but trouble's sure
I'd face it as a wise man would
And train for ill and not for good
Tis true the stuff I brink for sale
Is not so brisk a brew as ale
From a stem the scoured the hand
I wrung it in a weary land
But take it if the smack is sour
Better for the embittered hour
It should do good to heart and head
When your soul is in my soul's stead
And I will friend you if I may
In this dark and dreary day
There was a king, reigned in the east
There when kings will sit to feast
They get their fill before they think,
with poisoned meat and poisoned drink.
He gathered all that springs to birth
From the many venomed earth
First a little, thence to more
He sampled all their killing store.
And easy smiling, seasoned sound
Sate the king when healths went round.
They put arsnic in his meat
And stared aghast to watch him eat
The poured strictonine in his cup
And shook to see him drink it up
They shook they stared as white's their shirt
Them it was their poison hurt
I tell the tale that I heard told
Mithradites, he died old.