“If barley be wanted to make into malt We must be content and think it no fault.
For we can make liquor to sweeten our lips
Of pumpkins and parsnips and walnut tree chips.”
— 17th Century Song
More Entries
- Some malt the Indian corne, others barley, of which they
- He that drinks strong beer, and goes to bed mellow,
- Lips that touch liquor shall never touch mine.
- A – “which way does a tree fall?” B — “down!”
- Say for what were hopyards meant. Or why was Burton built on Trent
- Take two ounces of hops, and boil them, three or four hours
- May meat always sweeten your pot.
- So laugh, lads, and quaff, lads, twill make you
- The way I gained my title, by a hobby which I’ve got – Of never letting others pay,
- Three be the things I shall never attain: Envy, content, and sufficient Champagne.