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The following Stanzas are extracted from
a copy of recent date.
Shall all our singing uow be o'er,
Since Christmas carols fail?
No
!
let us shout one stanza more
In
praise of Brasenose Ale
!
A fig for Horace aml his juice,
Falernian and Massie;
Far better drink can we produce,
Though 'tis not quite so Classic.
Not all the liquors Rome e'er had
Can beat our matchless Beer;
Apicius' self had gone stark mad,
To taste such noble cheer.
Recipe.
Three quarts of ale, sweetened with refined
sugar finely pulverized, and served up in a
bowl with six roasted apples floating in it.