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Robert W Service - At The Golden Pig
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Where once with lads I scoffed my beer
     The landlord`s lass I`ve wed.
Now I am lord and master here;—
     Thank God! the old man`s dead.
I stand behind a blooming bar
     With belly like a tub,
And pals say, seeing my cigar:
               `Bill`s wed a pub.`

I wonder now if I did well,
     My freedom for to lose;
Knowing my wife is fly as hell
     I mind my `Ps` and `Qs`.
Oh what a fuss she made because
     I tweaked the barmaid`s bub:
Alas! a sorry day it was
               I wed a pub.

Fat landlord of the Golden Pig,
     They call me `mister` now;
And many a mug of beer I swig,
     Yet don`t get gay, somehow.
So farmer fellows, lean and clean
     Who sweat to earn your grub,
Although you haven`t got a bean:
               Don`t wed a pub.
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