Drink up

Why if dancing you would be,
There's brisker pipes than poetry.
Say, for what were hop-yards meant,
Or why was Burton build on Trent?  (Burton is a brewery)
Oh many a peer of England brews
Livelier liquor than the Muse,
And malt does more than Milton can
To justify God's ways to man.
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
And faith, 'tis pleasant till 'tis past:
The mischief is that twill not last.
Oh I have been to Ludlow fair
And left my necktie God knows where,
And carried halfway home or near,
Pints and quarts of Ludlow beer:
Than the world seemed none so bad,
And I myself a sterling lad;
And down in lovely much I've lain,
Happy till I woke again.
Than I saw the morning sky:
Heigho, the tale was all a lie;
The world, it was the old world yet,
I was I, my things were wet,
And nothing now remained to do
But begin the game anew.

A.E. Housman's A Shropshire Lad