Here's the original, from the Bodleian collection, Harding B 26(577):


A NEW SONG ON THE RISE OF PORTER

1. What is this world come to, boys?
There's strange things every day.
It's hard to know what they will do,
If they're let go on this way.
If Guinness goes on this way, boys,
'Tis very hard to think
That fivepence we must pay, boys,
For every quart we drink.

CHORUS: Now what do you think of the beer, boys?
What do you think of the beer?
Fivepence a quart is rather tart,
And everything so dear.

2. Now I hear that Guinness's porter,
His XX and stout,
Is going to be boycotted,
Without any manner of doubt.
When it comes to the end of the quarter,
He'll find he's taken short,
For we'll all drink Darcy's porter,
The man that won't extort.

3. Now the policemen may walk the streets
From early dawn till late
Before they meet a drunken man
To cross them on their bate.
There won't be so many prisoners
Every morning fined ten bob,
No black eyes nor bloody noses,
No split heads nor broken gobs.

4. Now there's Billy Snipes the tailor
And his wife old drunken bet,
Went into B——s the corner shop,
Two pewters for to get.
When he heard the porter it was raised,
He unto her did say,
"By every feather upon my goose,
Fivepence I'll never pay."

5. Now all the grocer's curates sure
Their brains is nearly cracked,
As through the want of business
They know they'll all be sacked,
For when the porter rises
Those unfortunate spalpeens,
They must join the hungry army,
Or else the horse marines.

6. Now the women they are really
Going mad both one and all,
As they cannot get a small pint now
From master John at all.
They say instead of porter,
They'll drink tea now for spite
Or go and join the teetotalers,
And I think they are but right.