Beer, Boys, Beer!
Beer, boys, beer! No more absurd restriction,
Courage, Bass, Meux, and Barclay must give way;
Half pints and quarts have vanish’d like a fiction,
Why then, submit to the brewers’ despot sway?
Brown stout of England! much as we may love thee,
(Which, by the way, I rather think we do,)
Pale draught of India, shall they charge us for ye,
Twice what you’re worth, for the profit of a few?