Not long ago, I had a Glass of Ale,
The Taste of which enticed my jaded Tongue.
So good it was, I drank it by the Pail,
With Relish scarcely felt since I was young.
A Belgian Brew, it smacked of local Yeast
From Brussels, or perhaps Antwerpen-town.
I gulped it: Had I been a wild Beast
Not one Drop more could I have gotten down.
Most times I favor Wine, a noble Drink
To tipple with my Veg’table and Meat.
And yet, this noble Ale, I should think
Could make a Feast of kingly Fare complete.
Another Glass of Lambic I shall quaff,
And then it’s time for Bed. I shall be off.
[When Kevin throws down the gauntlet in the comments, I needs must respond.]