We-Bee and I-live by the quaffing-
‘Tisn’t all Hock-with us-
Life has its Ale-
But it’s many a lay of the Dim Burgundy-
We chant-for cheer-when the Wines-fail-
Do we “get drunk”?
Ask the jolly Clovers!
Do we “beat” our “Wife”?
Bee-pledges his-in minute flagons-
Dainty-as the trees-on our deft Head-
While runs the Rhine-
He and I-revel-
First-at the vat-and latest at the Vine-
Noon-our last Cup-
“Found dead”-“of Nectar”-
By a humming Coroner-
In a By-Thyme!