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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508293" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Dram-Shop Ditty</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I drink my fill of foamy ale<br>I sing a song, I tell a tale,<br>I play the fiddle;<br>My throat is chronically dry,<br>Yet savant of a sort am I,<br>And Life's my riddle.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For look! I raise my arm to drink-<br>A voluntary act, you think<br>(Nay, Sir, you're grinning)><br>You're wrong: this stein of beer I've drained<br>to emptiness was pre-ordained<br>Since Time's beginning.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But stay! 'Tis I who err, because<br>Time has no birth; it always was,<br>It will be ever;<br>And trivial though my act appears,<br>Its repercussion down the years<br>Will perish never.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It will condition ages hence,<br>but its most urgent consequence,<br>You'll not deny, Sir,<br>Is that it should be filled again<br>To goad my philosophic brain,<br>If you will buy, Sir.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is no great, there is no small;<br>Fate makes a tapestry of all,<br>each stitch is needed . . .<br>The gods be praised! that barman chap<br>Manipulates his frothing tap -<br>My plea is heeded.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Two foaming tankards over-spill,<br>And soon, ah! not too soon, they will<br>Our thirst be slaking.<br>Stout lad! he does not dream that he<br>A page of history maybe<br>Is blandly making.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For Sir, it was ordained that you<br>Buy me a drink (or maybe two)<br>Since ages hoary;<br>And doubtless it is predestined<br>our meeting shall affect in kind<br>Earth's Cosmic Story.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The fathomless, eternal Past,<br>The Future infinitely vast,<br>We two are linking;<br>So let us fitly celebrate<br>This moment of immortal Fate<br>In drinking, drinking.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But though I toss a hearty pot,<br>Kind stranger, do not think I'm not<br>For Truth a groper . . .<br>Another? Thanks, I won't refuse,<br>I am a tippler, if you choose,<br>But not a toper.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A nice distinction! . . . Well, life's good;<br>Just give me beer, rich greasy food,<br>And let me fiddle;<br>Enough of dull philosophy;<br>To-night we'll merry, merry be . . .<br>Hi-diddle-diddle.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508293" data-title="Dram-Shop Ditty de Robert William Service" data-description="I drink my fill of foamy ale
I sing a song, I tell a tale,
I play the fiddle;
My throat is chronically dry,
Yet savant of a sort am I,
And Life's my riddle.

For look! I raise my arm to drink-
A voluntary act, you think
(Nay, Sir, you're grinning)..."></div>
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