The Harvest Home's a home indeed; If my lord bishop drank ale there, He'd want to kiss the beggar wench, And change his gown with her, I swear. The Harvest Home's a place to love, There is no better booze on sale; Angels in Heaven -- I take my oath -- Can find no better glass of ale. There's courage in such booze as that: Old Dicky drank but one small mug, And then, to please the harvest girls, Said, 'Look!' and swallowed a live frog. The landlord draws to suit my taste, I never knew his wife to fail; But, somehow, what the daughter draws Is -- by my soul and body -- Ale! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLINDED BIRD by THOMAS HARDY PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 94. AL-HADI by EDWIN ARNOLD SONNET OF LIFE by ERNEST BENSHIMOL THE FARMER'S WIFE by BERTON BRALEY TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. THE GOLDEN WEDDING by EDWARD CARPENTER |