A. E. Housman

Why, if 'tis dancing you would be,
There's brisker pipes than poetry.
Say, for what were hop-yards meant,
Or why was Burton build on Trent?
Oh many a peer of England brews
Livelier liquor than the Muse,
Ale, man, ale's the stuff to drink
For fellows whom it hurts to think:
Look into the pewter pot
To see the world as the world's not.


Frances Xavier

Hail oh juice of the never bested hop
Many as thou art, thy virtues are the top
Come to the yeast and water in fermentation
and allow us to drink thee without hesitation


Amy Jackson

If the river was made of beer,
And I a diving duck,
I'd swim down to the bottom,
And drink myself back up.


Kirk Kelly

There are those who drink...
and those who pound,
and those who don't...
are bound to frown.
No matter what you say do...
Always cheer your frosty brew!

For every wound, a balm.
For every sorrow, cheer.
For every storm, a calm.
For every thirst, a beer.


T. K. Townsend

Let us sing our own treasures, Old England's good cheer...
To the profits and pleasures of stout British beer...
Your wine tippling, dram sipping fellows retreat...
But your beer drinking Britons can never be beat.

The French with their vineyards and meager pale ale...
They drink from the squeezing of half ripe fruit.
But we, who have hop-yards to mellow our ale...
are rosy and plump and have freedom to boot.


Special thanks all for sending in the poems!

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