A Tankard of Ale: An Anthology of Drinking Songs

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Theodore Maynard
R. M. McBride, 1920 - 205ÆäÀÌÁö

A Tankard of Ale : An Anthology of Drinking Songs by 1890-1956Theodore Maynard, first published in 1920, is a rare manuscript, the original residing in one of the great libraries of the world. This book is a reproduction of that original, which has been scanned and cleaned by state-of-the-art publishing tools for better readability and enhanced appreciation.

Restoration Editors' mission is to bring long out of print manuscripts back to life. Some smudges, annotations or unclear text may still exist, due to permanent damage to the original work. We believe the literary significance of the text justifies offering this reproduction, allowing a new generation to appreciate it.

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169 ÆäÀÌÁö - DRINK to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
76 ÆäÀÌÁö - I have heard that on a day Mine host's sign-board flew away, Nobody knew whither, till An astrologer's old quill To a sheepskin gave the story, Said he saw you in your glory, Underneath a new old-sign Sipping beverage divine, And pledging with contented smack The Mermaid in the Zodiac.
27 ÆäÀÌÁö - Now let them drink till they nod and wink, Even as good fellows should do ; They shall not miss to have the bliss Good ale doth bring men to ; And all poor souls that have...
94 ÆäÀÌÁö - Chorus* Let the toast pass, — Drink to the lass, I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass, Here's to the charmer whose dimples we prize ; Now to the maid who has none, sir : Here's to the girl with a pair of blue eyes; And here's to the nymph with but one, sir.
27 ÆäÀÌÁö - And Tib, my wife, that as her life Loveth well good ale to seek, Full oft drinks she till ye may see The tears run down her cheek: Then doth she trowl to me the bowl Even as a maltworm should, And saith, "Sweetheart, I took my part Of this jolly good ale and old.
94 ÆäÀÌÁö - Here's to the maid with a bosom of snow: Now to her that's as brown as a berry: Here's to the wife with a face full of woe, And now to the damsel that's merry.
26 ÆäÀÌÁö - I stuff my skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old. Back and side go bare, go bare ; Both foot and hand go cold ; But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, Whether it be new or old.
76 ÆäÀÌÁö - Would, with his maid Marian, Sup and bowse from horn and can. I have heard that on a day Mine host's sign-board flew away, Nobody knew whither, till...
58 ÆäÀÌÁö - The bowl goes trim, the moon doth shine. And our ballast is old wine; And your ballast is old wine.
72 ÆäÀÌÁö - Quaes, and their Quods, They're all but a parcel of pigeons. Toroddle, toroddle, toroll ! When Methodist preachers come down, A-preaching that drinking is sinful, I'll wager the rascals a crown, They always preach best with a skinful.

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