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DEAR TOM THIS BROWN JUG, by                    
First Line: "dear tom, this brown jug which now foams with good ale"
Last Line: So here's to my lovely sweet kate of the vale
Subject(s): Bottles;death;drinks & Drinking;friendship; "dead, The;


Dear Tom, this brown jug which now foams with good ale,
In which I will drink to sweet Kate of the vale,
Was once Toby Philpot, a jolly old soul,
As e'er drank a bottle, or fathom'd a bowl;
In boozing about 'twas his pride to excel,
And among jolly topers he bore off the bell.

It chanced in dog days as he sat at his ease,
In his flower-woven arbour, as gay as you please,
With a friend and a pipe, puffing sorrow away,
And with honest old stingo was soaking his clay,
His breath doors of life on a sudden were shut,
And he died full as big as a Dorchester butt.

His body when long in the ground it had lain,
And time into clay had dissolv'd it again,
A potter found out in a covert so snug,
And with part of fat Toby he made this brown jug,
Now sacred to friendship, to mirth, and mild ale,
So here's to my lovely sweet Kate of the vale.





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