This poem was written in August 1916 by my Grandfather P.J Keady, aged 19 while he served in the British Navy during the First World War.
Drink
There are moments when doubt and depression
Make living seem like hell
When ones thoughts are the consent obsession
That mankind is everything vile
When nothing there is will sooth one
What, nothing?.. Yes one thing there is wine
When all things else fail when every things gale
That’s the nectar of Bacchus divine
It muses, enlivens, arouses
There’s music in each flowing glass
And the magic each tankard-full houses
Will change to “Cheer Ho” sad “Alas”
Then sing ye the glories of Guinness
And sound ye the praises of Bass
Each beaker of bitter will win us
A pleasure that none can surpass
P.J. Keady
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