JOHN BULL'S PETITION

      FOR CHEAP BEER.

Containing TAP ROOM TOPICS, or ADVICE to BREWERS.

YE BREWERS a', baith far and near,
Attend to what I ſing ;
Ye men of feeling, lend an ear,
Important news I bring.
Your deareſt intereſts are at ſtake,
Your trade will ſure decline,
Gin ye provoke the common folk
To tipple Adam's Wine.
CHORUS.
There's nae luck about the houſe,
There's nae luck ava' ;
There's nae luck ſin' Barleycorn
Was baniſh'd far avra'.

Where e'er I gang, ilk ane cries out,
About the price o' beer ;
An Johnnie Bull, ye need na doubt,
Has thought it, lang, ower dear ;
An' when he ance lifts up his voice,
'Tis-uſeleſs to repine ;
Sae juſt prepare to imitate
The Brewers o' lang ſyne.

This ſtory hear :—AeMonday night,
A ſocial group I ſaw,
Forgather'd at a Public Houſe,
To ſpend an hour or twa.
Tom, Bob, an' Dick, three neebor lads,
Amang the reft did ſhine ;
Ilk crack'd a joke, an' ſung a ſang,
For auld lang ſyne.

The joke, the fang, an' glee went round,
Amang thae happy few ;
An' blither chiels ye wad na find,
Seek a' the countra through.
They ſnugly ſat, in merry chat,
'Till the Kirk clock ſtruck nine ;
An' ay they drank ilk ithers healths,
For auld lang ſyne.

Says Tom, We canna quite forget
The tricks our fathers play'd,
When ower the nappy they got ſet,
Fu' lang they aften ſtaid :
An' we, their hopefu' bairns, says Dick,
Can imitate them fine ;
While yon " odd-fellow" i' the nuik
Is drinking Adam's Wine.

'Twas Nathan—wha, poor wight, had
In fatal hour, a vow ;              [made,
That during a' the time o' Lent
Ale ſudna' croſs his mou'.
To manage this Herculean taſk,
Was Nathan's firm deſign—
An' never was he heard to aſk
For aught but Adam's Wine.

Tom handed him a glass o' beer,
An' ſaid, Come drink wi' me ;
Na, na, says Nathan, thank ye ſir,
But that I canna' de.
Your Composition I'll no' taſte,
I'll drink o' Adam's Wine,

Till Barley-corn reſume his place,
An' imitates lang ſyne !
Bold reſolution, faith, fays Tom,
Though verra raſhly made ;
And ill adapted to promote
The honeſt Brewer's trade :
An' Brewers are right ſonſie chaps,
Their Ale is unco fine ;
An' Friendſhip bids ane tak a glaſs,
For auld langſyne

But then its ſtrength, fays Nathan, man,
Its ſtrength, in times like theſe,
Bears nae proportion to it's price,
Therefore it canna pleaſe ;
Their ale, tho' Malt has lang been cheap,
Hops plentiful an' fine,
Is waur than ony table beer
Our fathers drank Jang ſyne.

O confidence ! haſt thou loſt thy power ?
Or haſt thou gane to ſleep ?
How canſt thou fee the wolves devour,
An' ſpoil the harmleſs ſheep !
Does their obdurate breaſts diſown
Thy influence divine ?
Or is man's ſocial nature chang'd
Sin' auld lang ſyne ?

Thae queries let the knowing tribe
O' Brewers anſwer me ;
An' let their future conduct ſhew
Their generoſity.
If they ha'e feeling left, or ſhame,
Or to reform incline,
Let them produce ſie nut-brown ale
As Brewers did lang ſyne.

An' as the price o' a' things elſe
Is low'r'd one-third and mair,
Reduce it to a groat the quart—
A price that's verra fair.
Let them no' tempt the multitude
To tipple Adam's Wine ;
But mak' their liquor cheap an' guid,
As Brewers did lang ſyne.

Wi' arguments like thae, convinc'd,
They ane an' a' agreed,
To follow honeſt Nathan's plan,
Till they did get remead.
Ilk ane that drank a pint o' ale,
Sud pay a heavy fine ;
But when he pleas'd he might regale
Himſel' wi' Adam's Wine.

Sae hame they went, ilk firmly bent
To drink nae Brewer's beer,
Frae henceforth, a' the time o' Lent,
An' ſtoutly perſevere,
Until the feeling hearts o' thaſe,
Wha brew it might incline,
To lower its price, an' mak' it guid,
As it was brew'd lang ſyne.

                            Marshall, Printer, Newcastle.