Though grey are my locks, and wrinkled my brow, Though my strength and my eyesight both fail, I'm as blythe as the lark and cheerful e'en now, O'er a bottle of John Fowler's Ale. I covet not riches to render me blest, And honours I count no avail; Of all my enjoyments the one I like best Is a bottle of John Fowler's Ale. To those who despise the comforts I find, And liquors of all kinds assail, I'll venture to say they would alter their mind, If they tasted but John Fowler's Ale. Such blessings as these we should never despise, But make it a rule without fail, Not to drink to excess but be merry and wise, O'er a bottle of John Fowler's Ale.
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