| I CANNOT eat but little meat, | |
| My stomach is not good; | |
| But sure I think that I can drink | |
| With him that wears a hood. | |
| Though I go bare, take ye no care, | 5 |
| I nothing am 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; | 10 |
| 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; | 15 |
| Much bread I not desire. | |
| No frost nor snow, no wind, I trow, | |
| Can hurt me if I wold; | |
| I am so wrapp'd and thoroughly lapp'd | |
| Of jolly good ale and old. | 20 |
| Back and side go bare, go bare, &c. | |
| |
| 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: | 25 |
| 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.' | |
| Back and side go bare, go bare, &c. | 30 |
| |
| 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 scour'd bowls | 35 |
| Or have them lustily troll'd, | |
| God save the lives of them and their wives, | |
| Whether they be young or old. | |
| Back and side go bare, go bare; | |
| Both foot and hand go cold; | 40 |
| But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, | |
| Whether it be new or old. | |
