Suggested by Mr. Chesterton's "The Flying Inn."
Of G. K. C. a tale I tell, of Gilbert Chesterton,
And how he met Gambrinus once and how they carried on.
Each roared a lusty challenge out, as only topers can,
And sat him down and called for beer, and then the bout began.
One had a Seidel to his hand, and one a pewter pot;
They drank potations pottle deep, in fact they drank a lot.
And as they drank the barrels dry they rolled them on the floor,
And sang a stave and drained a quart and called aloud for more.
Their glowing souls o'ertopped the stars; they had their hearts' desire,
The while the world spun round and round its busy track of fire.
"I've lived for this," said G. K. C. and tossed his flaming head;
"Der Kerl ist stark, das Bier ist gut," was what Gambrinus said.
The sun looked on, the moon looked on, the comets all stood still
To see this stout and jolly pair who never had their fill.
And still they drained their beer as if they'd only just begun;
And no one dared to interfere to settle which had won.