Brynge us home no muton, for that is tough and lene,
Neyther no trypys, for thei be seldyn clene;
Brynge us home no veel, syr, that do I not desyr,
But brynge us home good ale y-nough to drynke by yᵉ fyer;
Brynge us home no syder, nor no palde[111] wyne,
For, and yᵘ do, thow shalt have Criste’s curse and mine.”
The foregoing verses epitomise the praise of good beer. The first is from one of the earliest known drinking songs in the English language—the last is an old Wassail song—the Wassail bowl, which was of hot spiced ale, with roasted apples bobbing therein,—a kindly way of welcome on New Year’s Eve, of Saxon derivation as its name “Wes-hal,” be of health, or your health, testifies.
That the Anglo-Saxon took kindly to his beer, we have already seen; and that that feeling exists at the present day is undoubted, for what says the refrain of a comparatively modern drinking song?
“I loves a drop of good beer—I does—