Ah, Beer, My One Weakness. My Achille's

Thou Knowst The Oer-eager Vehemence Of Youth,how Quick In Temper, And In Judgement Weak.

Yea, And If Some God Shall Wreck Me In The Wine-dark Deep, Even So I Will Endure… For Already Have I Suffered Full Much, And Much Have I Toiled In Perils Of Waves And War. Let This Be Added To The Tale Of Those.

How Delicate Her Feet Who Shuns The Ground, Stepping A-tiptoe On The Heads Of Men.

The Stars Never Lie, But The Astrologers Lie About The Stars.

It Never Was Our Guise To Slight The Poor, Or Aught Humane Despise.