The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide

Famous Whisky Poems by Famous Poets

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

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The Grog-anGrumble Steeplechase

by Henry Lawson
 'Twixt the coastline and the border lay the town of Grog-an'-Grumble 
In the days before the bushman was a dull 'n' heartless drudge, 
An' they say the local meeting was a drunken rough-and-tumble, 
Which was ended pretty often by an inquest on the judge. 
An' 'tis said the city talent very often caught a tartar 
In the Grog-an'-Grumble sportsman,...Read more of this...

A Snifter

by Robert William Service
 After working hard all day
 In the office,
How much worse on homeward way
 My old cough is!
Barney's Bar is gaily lit,
 Let me stop there;
Just to buck me up a bit
 Have a drop there.

As I stand beside the screen
 Hesitating,
I have thought of how Noreen
 Will be waiting;
Baby Patsy in her lap
 Gay and laughing,
While at Barney's foaming...Read more of this...

That V.C

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 'Twas in the days of front attack; 
This glorious truth we'd yet to learn it -- 
That every "front" has got a back. 
And French was just the man to turn it. 
A wounded soldier on the ground 
Was lying hid behind a hummock; 
He proved the good old proverb sound -- 
An army travels on its stomach. 

He...Read more of this...

69. Third Epistle to J. Lapraik

by Robert Burns
 GUID speed and furder to you, Johnie,
Guid health, hale han’s, an’ weather bonie;
Now, when ye’re nickin down fu’ cannie
 The staff o’ bread,
May ye ne’er want a stoup o’ bran’y
 To clear your head.


May Boreas never thresh your rigs,
Nor kick your rickles aff their legs,
Sendin the stuff o’er muirs an’ haggs
 Like drivin wrack;
But may the tapmost grain that...Read more of this...

Sensitive Burglar

by Robert William Service
 Selecting in the dining-room
 The silver of his choice,
The burglar heard from chamber gloom
 A female voice.
As cold and bitter as a toad,
 She spat a nasty name,
So even as his swag he stowed
 He blushed for shame.

'You dirty dog!' he heard her say,
 'I sniff your whisky stench.
I bet you've gambled half your pay,
 Or blown it on...Read more of this...

Old Scout

by Robert William Service
 Is it because I'm bent and grey,
 Though wearing rather well,
That I can slickly get away
 With all the yarns I tell?
Is it because my bleary eye
 No longer beams with youth
That I can plant a whopping lie,
 And flout the truth?

I wonder why folks hark to me
 Where once they would have laughed?
They treat my yarns respectfully,
 No...Read more of this...

The Old Jimmy Woodser

by Henry Lawson
 The old Jimmy Woodser comes into the bar 
Unwelcomed, unnoticed, unknown, 
Too old and too odd to be drunk with, by far; 
So he glides to the end where the lunch baskets are 
And they say that he tipples alone. 

His frockcoat is green and the nap is no more, 
And his hat is not quite at its best;...Read more of this...

The Sausage Candidate-A Tale of the Elections

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Our fathers, brave men were and strong, 
And whisky was their daily liquor; 
They used to move the world along 
In better style than now -- and quicker. 
Elections then were sport, you bet! 
A trifle rough, there's no denying 
When two opposing factions met 
The skin and hair were always flying. 
When "cabbage-trees" could still be worn 
Without...Read more of this...

Five-Per-Cent

by Robert William Service
 Because I have ten thousand pounds I sit upon my stern,
And leave my living tranquilly for other folks to earn.
For in some procreative way that isn't very clear,
Ten thousand pounds will breed, they say, five hundred every year.
So as I have a healthy hate of economic strife,
I mean to stand aloof from it the balance of my life.
And yet...Read more of this...

Forest Of Europe

by Derek Walcott
 The last leaves fell like notes from a piano
and left their ovals echoing in the ear;
with gawky music stands, the winter forest
looks like an empty orchestra, its lines
ruled on these scattered manuscripts of snow.

The inlaid copper laurel of an oak
shines though the brown-bricked glass above your head
as bright as whisky, while the wintry breath
of lines from Mandelstam, which you...Read more of this...

The Poet in the Nursery

by Robert Graves
 The youngest poet down the shelves was fumbling 
In a dim library, just behind the chair 
From which the ancient poet was mum-mumbling 
A song about some Lovers at a Fair, 
Pulling his long white beard and gently grumbling
That rhymes were beastly things and never there. 

And as I groped, the whole time I was thinking 
About the tragic...Read more of this...

88. The Author's Earnest Cry and Prayer

by Robert Burns
 YE Irish lords, ye knights an’ squires,
Wha represent our brughs an’ shires,
An’ doucely manage our affairs
 In parliament,
To you a simple poet’s pray’rs
 Are humbly sent.


Alas! my roupit Muse is hearse!
Your Honours’ hearts wi’ grief ’twad pierce,
To see her sittin on her ****
 Low i’ the dust,
And scriechinh out prosaic verse,
 An like to brust!


Tell them wha hae the...Read more of this...

Los Angeles 1954

by David St John
 It was in the old days,
When she used to hang out at a place
Called Club Zombie,
A black cabaret that the police liked
To raid now and then. As she
Stepped through the door, the light
Would hit her platinum hair,
And believe me, heads would turn. Maestro
Loved it; he'd have her by
The arm as he led us through the packed crowd
To a private...Read more of this...

A Christmas Carol

by William Topaz McGonagall
 Welcome, sweet Christmas, blest be the morn
That Christ our Saviour was born!
Earth's Redeemer, to save us from all danger,
And, as the Holy Record tells, born in a manger.

Chorus --

Then ring, ring, Christmas bells,
Till your sweet music o'er the kingdom swells,
To warn the people to respect the morn
That Christ their Saviour was born. 

The snow was on the ground when...Read more of this...

The Demon Drink

by William Topaz McGonagall
 Oh, thou demon Drink, thou fell destroyer;
Thou curse of society, and its greatest annoyer.
What hast thou done to society, let me think?
I answer thou hast caused the most of ills, thou demon Drink. 

Thou causeth the mother to neglect her child,
Also the father to act as he were wild,
So that he neglects his loving wife and family dear,
By spending...Read more of this...

Wine Bibber

by Robert William Service
 I would rather drink than eat,
 And though I superbly sup,
Food, I feel, can never beat
 Delectation of the cup.
Wine it is that crowns the feast;
 Fish and fowl and fancy meat
Are of my delight the least:
 I would rather drink than eat.

Though no Puritan I be,
 And have doubts of Kingdom Come,
With those fellows I agree
 Who deplore...Read more of this...

The Bankrupt Peace-Maker

by Vachel Lindsay
 I opened the ink-well and smoke filled the room.
The smoke formed the giant frog-cat of my doom.
His web feet left dreadful slime tracks on the floor.
He had hammer and nails that he laid by the door.
He sprawled on the table, claw-hands in my hair.
He looked through my heart to the mud that was there.
Like a black-mailer hating his victim...Read more of this...

The Ballad Of How Macpherson Held The Floor

by Robert William Service
 Said President MacConnachie to Treasurer MacCall:
"We ought to have a piper for our next Saint Andrew's Ball.
Yon squakin' saxophone gives me the syncopated gripes.
I'm sick of jazz, I want to hear the skirling of the pipes."
"Alas! it's true," said Tam MacCall. "The young folk of to-day
Are fox-trot mad and dinna ken a reel from Strathspey.
Now, what we want's a...Read more of this...

An Old Song

by Rudyard Kipling
 So long as 'neath the Kalka hills
 The tonga-horn shall ring,
So long as down the Solon dip
 The hard-held ponies swing,
So long as Tara Devi sees
 The lights of Simla town,
So long as Pleasure calls us up,
 Or Duty drivese us down,
 If you love me as I love you
 What pair so happy as we two?

So long as...Read more of this...

68. The Holy Fair

by Robert Burns
 UPON 1 a simmer Sunday morn
 When Nature’s face is fair,
I walked forth to view the corn,
 An’ snuff the caller air.
The rising sun owre Galston muirs
 Wi’ glorious light was glintin;
The hares were hirplin down the furrs,
 The lav’rocks they were chantin
 Fu’ sweet that day.


As lightsomely I glowr’d abroad,
 To see a scene sae gay,
Three hizzies, early...Read more of this...

A Tribute to Mr Murphy and the Blue Ribbon Army

by William Topaz McGonagall
 All hail to Mr Murphy, he is a hero brave,
That has crossed the mighty Atlantic wave,
For what purpose let me pause and think-
I answer, to warn the people not to taste strong drink. 

And, I'm sure, if they take his advice, they never will rue
The day they joined the Blue Ribbon Army in the year 1882;
And I hope to...Read more of this...

The Ballad of Cockatoo Dock

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Of all the docks upon the blue 
There was no dockyard, old or new, 
To touch the dock at Cockatoo. 

Of all the ministerial clan 
There was no nicer, worthier man 
Than Admiral O'Sullivan. 

Of course, we mean E. W. 
O'Sullivan, the hero who 
Controlled the dock at Cockatoo. 

To workmen he explained his views -- 
"You need not...Read more of this...

Hildrup Tubbs

by Edgar Lee Masters
 I made two fights for the people.
First I left my party, bearing the gonfalon
Of independence, for reform, and was defeated.
Next I used my rebel strength
To capture the standard of my old party --
And I captured it, but I was defeated.
Discredited and discarded, misanthropical,
I turned to the solace of gold
And I used my remnant of power
To fasten myself like a...Read more of this...

The Battle of Culloden

by William Topaz McGonagall
 'Twas in the year of 1746, and in April the 14th day,
That Prince Charles Stuart and his army marched on without delay,
And on the 14th of April they encamped on Culloden Moor,
But the army felt hungry, and no food could they procure. 

And the calls of hunger could not brook delay,
So they resolved to have food, come what may;
They,...Read more of this...

O We Are The Outcasts

by Charles Bukowski
 ah, christ, what a CREW:
more
poetry, always more
P O E T R Y .

if it doesn't come, coax it out with a 
laxative. get your name in LIGHTS,
get it up there in
8 1/2 x 11 mimeo.

keep it coming like a miracle.

ah christ, writers are the most sickening
of all the louts!
yellow-toothed, slump-shouldered,
gutless, flea-bitten and
obvious . . . in tinker-toy rooms
with their...Read more of this...

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