Blacksmith Green had three strong sons, With bread and beef did fill 'em, Now John and Ned are perished and dead, But plenty remains of William. John Green was a whiskey drinker, The Land of Cakes supplied him, Till at last his soul flew out by the hole That the fierce drink burned inside him. Ned Green was a water drinker, And, Lord, how Ned would fuddle! He rotted away his mortal clay Like an old boot thrown in a puddle. Will Green was a wise young drinker, Shrank from whiskey or water, But he made good cheer with headstrong beer, And married an alderman's daughter. |