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truth_n know_v speak_v think_v 3,650 5 3.9318 3 true
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A95518 Ale ale-vated into the ale-titude or, a learned oration before a civill assembly of ale-drinkers, between Paddington and Hogsdon, the 30. of February last, anno millimo quillimo trillimo. By John Taylor. Taylor, John, 1580-1653. 1651 (1651) Wing T425; Thomason E1251_4; ESTC R209179 13,105 29

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without spirits at all That alien their minds from a c. And now that the grains do work in my brains Me thinks I were able to give by retaile Commodities store a dozen and more That flow to Mankind from a c. The MUSES would muse any should it misuse For it makes them to sing like a Nightingale With a lofty trim note having washed their throat With the Caballine Spring of a c. And the Musician of any condition It will make him reach to the top of his Scale It will clear his pipes and moisten his lights If he drink alternatim a c. The Poet divine that cannot reach Wine Because that his mony doth many times fail Will hit on the Vein to make a good strein If he be but inspired with a c. For Ballads ELDERTON never bad Peer How went his wit in them with how mer●y a gale And with all the sails up had he been at the cup And washed his beard with a c. All Writers or Rimers for such whose mishap Is from Newgate up Houlbourn to Tyburn to sail Shall have suddain expression of all their confession If the Muse be but dew'd with a c. And the power of it shows no whit lesse in Prose It will file one's Phrase and set forth his tale Fill him but a Boul it will make his tongue troul For flowing speech flows from a c. And Master Philosopher if he drink his part Will not trifle his time in the Husk or the Shale But go to the Kernell by the depth of his Art To be found in the bottom of a c. Give a Scholar of OXFORD a pot of Sixteens And put him to prove that an Ape hath a tail And sixteen times better his Wit will be seen If you fetch him from Botley a c. Thus it helps Speech and Wit And it hurts not a whit But rather doth further the Virtues Morale Then think it not much if a little I touch The good moral parts of a c. To the Church and Religion it is a good friend Or else our Forefathers their wisdome did faile That at every mile next to the Church stile Set a consecrate house to a c. But now as they say Beer beares it away The more is the pity if Right might prevaile For with this same Beer came up Heresie here The old Catholique Drink is a c. This Beer 's but an upstart from Dutchland here come Whose Credit with us sometimes is but small For in the Records of the Empire of Rome The old Catholique Drink is a c. O! the ancient tales that my Grandam hath told How merry we have been in Parlour and Hall How in Christmas time we would dance sing and rime As if we were mad with a c. The Churches much owe as we all do know For when they be drooping and ready to fall By a Whitson or Church-Ale up again they shall goe And owe their repairing to a c. Truth will do it right it brings Truth to light And many bad matters it helps to reveile For they that will drinke will speak what they think TOM tell-troath lies hid in a c. It is Justices friend she will it commend For all is here served by measure and tale Now true-tale and good measure are Justices treasure And much to the praise of a c. And next I alledge it is Fortitudes edge For a very Cow-herd that shrinks like a Snaile Will swear and will swagger and out goes his dagger If he be but arm'd with a c. Yea ALE hath her Knights and Squires of degree That never were Corslet nor yet shirt of mail But have fought their fights all 'twixt the pot and the wall When once they were dubb'd with a c. And sure it will make a man suddenly Wise Er'e-while was scarce able to tell a right tale It will open his jaw he will tell you the Law As made a right Bencher of a c. Or he that will make a bargain to gaine In buying or setting his goods forth to sale Must not plod in the mire but sit by the fire And seal up his Match with a c. But for Sobernesse needs must I confesse The matter goes hard and few doe prevaile Not to goe too deep but temper to keep Such is the Attractive of a c. But here 's an amends which will make all friends And ever doth tend to the best avail If you take it too deep it will make you but sleep So comes no great harm of a c. If re●ling they happen to fall to the ground The fall is not great they may hold by the Raile If into the water they cannot be drown'd For that gift is given to a c. If drinking about they chance to fall out Feare not the Alarm though flesh be but frail It will prove but some blows or at most a bloudy nose And friends again streight with a c. And Physick will favour ALE as it is bound And be against Beer both tooth and nail They send up and down all over the Town To get for their Patient a c. Their Ale-berries Cawdles and Possets each one And Sillabubs made at the Milking-pale Although they be many Beer comes not in any But all are compos'd with a c. And in very deed the Hop 's but a weed Brought o're against Law and here set to sale Would the Law were renew'd and no more Beer brew'd But all good men betake them to a c. The Law that will take it under her wing For at every Law-day or Moot of the hale One is sworne to serve our Soveraign the KING In the ancient Office of a CONNER of ALE. There 's never a Lord of Mannor or of Town By strand or by land by hill or by dale But thinks it a Franchise and a Flowr of the CROWN To hold the Assize of a c. And though there by writs from the Courts Paramoūt To stay the proceedings of the Cours Paravaile Law favours it so you may come you may go There lies no Prohibition to a c. They talk much of State both early and late But if Gascoign and Spain their Wine should but fail Noremedy then with us Englishmen But the State it must stand by a c. And they that sit by it are good men and quiet No dangerous Plotters in the Common-weal Of Treason and Murther for they never go further Than to call for and pay for a c. To the praise of CAMBRIVIUS that good Brittish King That devised for his Nation by the Welshmens tale Seventeen hundred years before CHRIST did spring The happy invention of a c. But he was a Paynim and ALE then was rife Yet after CHRIST came and bid us all hail Saint DAVID tid never trink Peer in her life Put all Cwwrwwhibley a c. The North they will prayse it and prayse it with passion Where every River gives name to a Dale There men are yet living that are of th' old fashion No Nectar they know but a c. The PICTS and the SCOTS for ALE were at lots So high was the skill and so kept under seal The PICTS were undone slain each mothers son For not teaching the SCOTS to make Hether Eale But hither or thither it skils not much whether For drink must be had men live not by Keal Nor by Havor-bannocks nor by Havor-jannocks The thing the SCOTS live on is a c. Now if you will say it I will not denay it That many a man it brings to his bale Yet what fairer end can one wish to his friend Than to die by the dart of a c. Yet let not the innocent beare any blame It is their own doings to break o're the pale And neither the Mault nor the good Wife in fault If any be potted with a c. They tell whom it kills but say not a word How many a man liveth both sound and hale Though he drink no Beer any day in the yeare By the Radicall humour of a c. But to speak of Killing that am I not willing For that in a manner were but to raile But Beer hath his name cause it brings to the Buyer Therefore well-fare say I to a c. Too many I wis with their deaths proved this And therefore if ancient Records do not faile He that first brew'd the Hop was rewarded with a rope And found his Beer far more bitter then ALE. O ALE ab alendo thou Liquor of LIFE That I had but a mouth as big as a Whale For mine is too little to touch the least tittle That belongs to the prayse of a c. Thus I trow some Vertues I have marked you out And never a Vi●e in all this long t●aile But that after the Pot there complet● a Shot And that 's thonly blot of a c. With that my friend said That Blot will I bear You have done very well it is time to strike saile Wee 'l have six pots more though I die on the score To make all this good of a Pot of good ALE. FINIS