Ben Barley was a barman stout Who drank both day and night, Which made him heavy, dull and fat Though all he drank was Light. He slowly drank himself to death, And at his wake so drear, Although 'twas he who'd passed away, The guests laid on the beer. His ghost came in and asked for gin In accents strange and far. The landlord said, 'Clear off; we don't Serve spirits in this bar.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RODNEY'S RIDE [JULY 3, 1776] by ELBRIDGE STREETER BROOKS YOUR MISSION by ELLEN M. HUNTINGTON GATES THE DEATH OF LYON by HENRY PETERSON TO MY SISTER by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH DOT LONG-HANDLED DIPPER by CHARLES FOLLEN ADAMS LITTLE BERNHARD by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |