These are the last 3 stanzas of a 70-stanza poem called THE EX-ALE-TATION OF ALE. The whole poem can be found in "An Antidote against Melancholy Made Up in Pills" (see the link I gave earlier), pages 1-11:


O ALE AB ALENDO

O ale ab alendo, the liquor of life!
That I had but a mouth as big as a whale!
For mine is but little, to touch the least tittle
That belongs to the praise of a pot of good ale.

Thus (I trow) some virtues I have mark'd you out,
And never a vice in all this long trail,
But that after the pot, there cometh a shot,
And that's th' only blot of a pot of good ale.

With that my friend said, "That blot will I bear,
You have done very well; it is time to strike sail;
We'll have six pots more, though I die on the score,
To make all this good of a pot of good ale."

---

The following modified version can be found in
Love and Drollery‎
by John Wardroper
London: Routledge & K. Paul, 1969:

O ALE AB ALENDO>

O ale ab alendo, thou liquor of life!
Would I had a mouth as big as a whale!
But mine is too little
To sound the least tittle
That belongs to the praise of a pot of good ale.
Although it will never
Be as big as I wish,
Yet still I'll endeavour
To drink like a fish.