"Here's sorry cheer!" quoth the heir of And over them, in broad letters,

GOOD ALE.

I CANNOT eat but little meat—

My stomach is not good;

But I think that I can drink
sure,
With him that wears a hood.

Tho' I go bare, take ye no care;
I am nothing a-cold-

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.

I love no roast but a nut-brown toast,
And a crab laid in the fire;

A little bread shall do me stead

Much bread I not desire.

No frost nor snow, nor wind, I trow,

Can hurt me if I wold

I am so wrapt, and thorowly lapt

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.

And Tyb, my wife, that as her life
⚫ Loveth well good ale to seek,
Full oft drinks she, till you may see

The tears run down her cheek;
Then doth she trowl to me the bowl,

Even as a malt-worm should;
And saith, "Sweetheart, I took my part
Of this 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.

trow,

And other things she will not fayle; I wold be loth to see her pine;

Good husbande, council take of me

Now let them drink till they nod and It is not for us to go so fine:

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 scoured bowls,

Or have them lustily trowled,

Man, take thy old cloake about thee.

HE.

My cloake, it was a very good cloake-
It hath been alwayes true to the weare;
But now it is not worth a groat;

I have had it four-and-forty yeare.