Now is the winter of our frozen spawn
Made brilliant summer by this bold Sir John
Who quaffeth, qoth, and quaffeth yet again
Til all the pubs of Hull would not contain the man.
Lift then your glasses, schooners, pints and specs
To one whose virtue to us all doth beck,
To strive to meet; and when the strife is gone,
Know you have drunk as much as drunk Sir john!

Hamworthy Shettlefielde
Poet-Laureate of Dwindlin-on-Touch,
Humberside, 1929