The heart which grief hath cankered, Hath one unfailing remedy - the Tankard.
Charles Stuart CalverleyOh Beer! Oh Hodgson, Guinness, Allsop, Bass! Names that should be on every infant's tongue! Shall days and months and years and centuries pass, And still your merits be unrecked, unsung?
Charles Stuart CalverleyThe auld wife sat at her ivied door, (Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese) A thing she had frequently done before; And her spectacles lay on her apron'd knees.
Charles Stuart Calverley