Went to visit an elegant fellow,
Whose practice, each cool afternoon,
Was to get most delightfully mellow
That day, with a black-jack of beer,
It chanced he was treating a party;
Says the Saint—“This good day, do you hear,
I drank nothing to speak of, my hearty!
So give me a pull at the pot!”
The pewter he lifted in sport
(Believe me, I tell you no fable),