Mention not the wines of Medoc, nor the vintage of Bordeaux,
Or the Burgundy that rivals e'en the ruby in its flow;
Though the growers of Epernay and the merry men of Rheims,
Pour champagne that holds the sunlight in exhilarating streams;
There's a finer nobler tipple, that the Briton's heart doth cheer,
And he clings with fond affection to his draught or bottled beer.
Amber Rudesheimer charms us wandering by the haunted Rhine,
Sparkling Hock near Ehrenbreitstein is a mighty pleasant wine;
In agreement with the German we have vowed we loved full well,
To behold the bubbles flashing on a goblet of Moselle;