But I never in liquors took delight,
For liquors I think is all a bite,[130]
So for heavy wet I call.
The heavy wet in a pewter quart,
As brown as a badger’s hue,
More than Bristol milk[131] or gin,
Brandy or rum, I tipple in,
With my darling blowen[132] Sue.
Oh! grunting peck[133] in its eating
Is a richly soft and a savoury thing;