Anonymous (published 1500)

Abstract A Song of Ale Back and side go bare, go bare, Both hand and foot go cold, But belly, God send thee good ale enough Whether it be new or old! But if that I may have truly Good ale my belly full, I shall look like one, by sweet Saint John, Were shorn against the wool. Though I go bare, take you no care, I am nothing a-cold, I stuff my skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old. I cannot eat but little meat, My stomach is not good; But sure I think that I could drink With him that weareth an hood. Drink is my life; although my wife Some time do chide and scold, Yet spare I not to ply the pot Of jolly good ale and old. I love no roast but a brown toast, Or a crab in the fire; A little bread shall do me stead; Much bread I never desire. Nor frost, nor snow, nor wind I trow, Can hurt me if it would, I am so wrapped within and lapped With jolly good ale and old.