The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide

Famous Ale Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Ale poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous ale poems. These examples illustrate what a famous ale poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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Blind Mans Buff

by William Blake
 When silver snow decks Susan's clothes,
And jewel hangs at th' shepherd's nose,
The blushing bank is all my care,
With hearth so red, and walls so fair;
`Heap the sea-coal, come, heap it higher,
The oaken log lay on the fire.'
The well-wash'd stools, a circling row,
With lad and lass, how fair the show!
The merry can of nut-brown ale,
The laughing jest, the love-sick tale,
Till,...Read more of this...

Commandeering

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Our hero was a Tommy with a conscience free from care, 
And such an open countenance that when he breathed the air 
He mopped up all the atmosphere -- so little went to spare 
You could hardly say he breathed, he "commandeered" it. 
For nowadays you'll notice when a man is "on the make", 
And other people's property is...Read more of this...

Sestina

by David Lehman
 for Jim Cummins 

In Iowa, Jim dreamed that Della Street was Anne Sexton's
twin. Dave drew a comic strip called the "Adventures of Whitman," 
about a bearded beer-guzzler in Superman uniform. Donna dressed 
 like Wallace Stevens 
in a seersucker summer suit. To town came Ted Berrigan, 
saying, "My idea of a bad poet is Marvin Bell."
But no one has...Read more of this...

The Chestnut Casts His Flambeaux

by A E Housman
 The chestnut casts his flambeaux, and the flowers 
Stream from the hawthorn on the wind away, 
The doors clap to, the pane is blind with showers. 
Pass me the can, lad; there's an end of May. 

There's one spoilt spring to scant our mortal lot, 
One season ruined of your little store. 
May will be fine next year as...Read more of this...

The Centenarian

by Robert William Service
 Great Grandfather was ninety-nine
 And so it was our one dread,
That though his health was superfine
 He'd fail to make the hundred.
Though he was not a rolling stone
 No moss he seemed to gather:
A patriarch of brawn and bone
 Was Great Grandfather.

He should have been senile and frail
 Instead of hale and hearty;
But no, he loved a mug of...Read more of this...

To Phillis To Love And Live With Him

by Robert Herrick
 Live, live with me, and thou shalt see
The pleasures I'll prepare for thee:
What sweets the country can afford
Shall bless thy bed, and bless thy board.
The soft sweet moss shall be thy bed,
With crawling woodbine over-spread:
By which the silver-shedding streams
Shall gently melt thee into dreams.
Thy clothing next, shall be a gown
Made of the fleeces' purest down.
The tongues of kids shall...Read more of this...

Juggling Jerry

by George Meredith
 Pitch here the tent, while the old horse grazes:
By the old hedge-side we'll halt a stage.
It's nigh my last above the daisies:
My next leaf'll be man's blank page.
Yes, my old girl! and it's no use crying:
Juggler, constable, king, must bow.
One that outjuggles all's been spying
Long to have me, and he has me now.

We've travelled times to this old common:
Often...Read more of this...

310. Tam o' Shanter: A Tale

by Robert Burns
 WHEN chapman billies leave the street,
And drouthy neibors, neibors, meet;
As market days are wearing late,
And folk begin to tak the gate,
While we sit bousing at the nappy,
An’ getting fou and unco happy,
We think na on the lang Scots miles,
The mosses, waters, slaps and stiles,
That lie between us and our hame,
Where sits our sulky, sullen dame,
Gathering her brows like gathering...Read more of this...

The Old Huntsman

by Siegfried Sassoon
 I’ve never ceased to curse the day I signed 
A seven years’ bargain for the Golden Fleece. 
’Twas a bad deal all round; and dear enough 
It cost me, what with my daft management, 
And the mean folk as owed and never paid me, 
And backing losers; and the local bucks 
Egging me on with whiskys while I bragged...Read more of this...

The Child and the Mariner

by William Henry Davies
 A dear old couple my grandparents were, 
And kind to all dumb things; they saw in Heaven 
The lamb that Jesus petted when a child; 
Their faith was never draped by Doubt: to them 
Death was a rainbow in Eternity, 
That promised everlasting brightness soon. 
An old seafaring man was he; a rough 
Old man, but kind; and hairy,...Read more of this...

190. Song—Lady Onlie Honest Luckie

by Robert Burns
 A’ THE lads o’ Thorniebank,
 When they gae to the shore o’ Bucky,
They’ll step in an’ tak a pint
 Wi’ Lady Onlie, honest Lucky.


Chorus.—Lady Onlie, honest Lucky,
 Brews gude ale at shore o’ Bucky;
I wish her sale for her gude ale,
 The best on a’ the shore o’ Bucky.


Her house sae bien, her curch sae clean
 I wat she...Read more of this...

The Dance At The Phoenix

by Thomas Hardy
 To Jenny came a gentle youth 
 From inland leazes lone; 
His love was fresh as apple-blooth 
 By Parrett, Yeo, or Tone. 
And duly he entreated her 
To be his tender minister, 
 And call him aye her own. 

Fair Jenny's life had hardly been 
 A life of modesty; 
At Casterbridge experience keen 
 Of many loves...Read more of this...

Grandad

by Robert William Service
 Heaven's mighty sweet, I guess;
Ain't no rush to git there:
Been a sinner, more or less;
Maybe wouldn't fit there.
Wicked still, bound to confess;
Might jest pine a bit there.

Heaven's swell, the preachers say:
Got so used to earth here;
Had such good times all the way,
Frolic, fun and mirth here;
Eighty Springs ago to-day,
Since I had my birth here.

Quite a spell of happy years.
Wish...Read more of this...

Penmaen Pool

by Gerard Manley Hopkins
 For the Visitors' Book at the Inn


Who long for rest, who look for pleasure
Away from counter, court, or school
O where live well your lease of leisure
But here at, here at Penmaen Pool? 
You'll dare the Alp? you'll dart the skiff?— 
Each sport has here its tackle and tool:
Come, plant the staff by Cadair cliff;
Come, swing the sculls on Penmaen...Read more of this...

6. The Tarbolton Lasses

by Robert Burns
 IF ye gae up to yon hill-tap,
 Ye’ll there see bonie Peggy;
She kens her father is a laird,
 And she forsooth’s a leddy.


There Sophy tight, a lassie bright,
 Besides a handsome fortune:
Wha canna win her in a night,
 Has little art in courtin’.


Gae down by Faile, and taste the ale,
 And tak a look o’ Mysie;
She’s dour and din,...Read more of this...

The Mistletoe (A Christmas Tale)

by Mary Darby Robinson
 A farmer's wife, both young and gay,
And fresh as op'ning buds of May;
Had taken to herself, a Spouse,
And plighted many solemn vows,
That she a faithful mate would prove,
In meekness, duty, and in love!
That she, despising joy and wealth,
Would be, in sickness and in health,
His only comfort and his Friend--
But, mark the sequel,--and attend!

This Farmer, as the tale is told--
Was...Read more of this...

Madrigale III

by Francesco Petrarch
MADRIGALE III. Nova angeletta sovra l' ale accorta. HE ALLEGORICALLY DESCRIBES THE ORIGIN OF HIS PASSION.  From heaven an angel upon radiant wings,New lighted on that shore so fresh and fair,To which, so doom'd, my faithful footstep clings:Alone and friendless, when she found me there,Of gold and silk a finely-woven net,Read more of this...

The Highwayman

by Alfred Noyes
 PART ONE

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
 And the highwayman came riding--
 Riding--riding--
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inndoor.

He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat...Read more of this...

LEscargot DOr

by Robert William Service
 O Tavern of the Golden Snail!
Ten sous have I, so I'll regale;
Ten sous your amber brew to sip
(Eight for the bock and two the tip),
And so I'll sit the evening long,
And smoke my pipe and watch the throng,
The giddy crowd that drains and drinks,
I'll watch it quiet as a sphinx;
And who among them all shall buy
For ten poor sous...Read more of this...

Ale

by William Henry Davies
 Now do I hear thee weep and groan, 
Who hath a comrade sunk at sea? 
Then quaff thee of my good old ale, 
And it will raise him up for thee; 
Thoul't think as little of him then 
As when he moved with living men.

If thou hast hopes to move the world, 
And every effort it doth fail, 
Then...Read more of this...

Mac Flecknoe

by John Dryden
 All human things are subject to decay,
And, when Fate summons, monarchs must obey:
This Flecknoe found, who, like Augustus, young
Was call'd to empire, and had govern'd long:
In prose and verse, was own'd, without dispute
Through all the realms of Non-sense, absolute.
This aged prince now flourishing in peace,
And blest with issue of a large increase,
Worn out with business, did at length debate
To...Read more of this...

512. Song—Guid ale keeps the heart aboon

by Robert Burns
 Chorus—O gude ale comes and gude ale goes;
Gude ale gars me sell my hose,
Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon—
Gude ale keeps my heart aboon!


I HAD sax owsen in a pleugh,
And they drew a’ weel eneugh:
I sell’d them a’ just ane by ane—
Gude ale keeps the heart aboon!
 O gude ale comes, &c.


Gude ale hauds me bare and busy,
Gars...Read more of this...

305. Song—Gudewife count the lawin

by Robert Burns
 GANE is the day, and mirk’s the night,
But we’ll ne’er stray for faut o’ light;
Gude ale and bratdy’s stars and moon,
And blue-red wine’s the risin’ sun.


Chorus.—Then gudewife, count the lawin,
The lawin, the lawin,
Then gudewife, count the lawin,
 And bring a coggie mair.


There’s wealth and ease for gentlemen,
And simple folk maun fecht and fen’;
But here we’re a’ in ae accord,
For...Read more of this...

The Rolling English Road

by G K Chesterton
 Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode,
The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road.
A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire,
And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire;
A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread
The night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy...Read more of this...

Robin Hood

by John Keats
 to a friend 

No! those days are gone away
And their hours are old and gray,
And their minutes buried all
Under the down-trodden pall
Of the leaves of many years:
Many times have winter's shears,
Frozen North, and chilling East,
Sounded tempests to the feast
Of the forest's whispering fleeces,
Since men knew nor rent nor leases.

 No, the bugle sounds no more,
And the twanging bow no...Read more of this...

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