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The Three Drinkers

Robert Graves

Blacksmith Green had three strong sons,
  With bread and beef did fill ’em,
Now John and Ned are perished and dead,
  But plenty remains of William.

John Green was a whiskey drinker,
  The Land of Cakes supplied him,
Till at last his soul flew out by the hole
  That the fierce drink burned inside him.

Ned Green was a water drinker,
  And, Lord, how Ned would fuddle!
He rotted away his mortal clay
  Like an old boot thrown in a puddle.

Will Green was a wise young drinker,
  Shrank from whiskey or water,
But he made good cheer with headstrong beer,
  And married an alderman’s daughter.
Online text © 1998-2008 Poetry X. All rights reserved.
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