Ja, ja! Der Wolpertinger is richtig, wir mussen ein Lied singen....
if only to drown out that Frenchie windbag over there
.....Blah, blah, blah....
Im dieser Tavern wir muss viel spass haben!
Zo, was zu singen
Ach! Ich habe die Beste......
There's a lusty liquor which
Good fellows use to take-a,
It is distill'd with nard most rich,
And water of the lake-a;
Of hop a little quantity,
And barm to it they bring too;
Being barrell'd up, they call't a cup
Of dainty good old stingo.
'Twill make a man indentures make,
'Twill make a fool seem wise,
'Twill make a Puritan sociate,
And leave to be precise;
'Twill make him dance about a cross,
And eke to run the ring too,
Or anything he once thought gross,
Such virtue hath old stingo.
And finally, the beggar poor,
That walks till he be weary,
Craving along from door to door,
With pre-commiserere;
If he do change to catch a touch,
Although his clothes be thin, too,
Though he be lame, he'll prove his crutch
If his head be lin'd with stingo.
Now to conclude, here is a health
Unto the lad that spendeth,
Let every man drink off his can,
And so my ditty endeth;
I willing am my friend to pledge,
For he will meet me one day;
Let's drink the barrel to the dregs,
For the malt-man comes a-Monday.
NWC
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