Mr. H. Belloc

At Martinmas, when I was born,

Hey diddle, ho diddle do.

There came a cow with a crumpled horn,

Hey diddle, ho diddle do.

She stood agape and said,

"My dear, you're a very fine child for this time of year,

And I think you'll have a taste in beer!"

Hey diddle, ho diddle ho do do da.

Hey diddle, ho diddle do.

A taste in beer I've certainly got.

Hey diddle, ho diddle do.

A very fine taste that the Jews have not.

Hey diddle, ho diddle do.

And though I travel on the hills of Spain,

And Val-Pont-Côte and Belle Fontaine,

With lusty lungs I shall still maintain.

Hey diddle, ho diddle ho do do da.

Hey diddle, ho diddle do.

So Sussex men, wherever you be,

Hey diddle, ho diddle do.

I pray you sing this song with me.

Hey diddle, ho diddle do.

That of all the shires she is the queen,

And they brew at the "Chequers" on Chanctonbury Green

The very best beer that ever was seen.

Hey, Dominus, Domine, Dominum, Domini,

Hey, diddle, diddle, Domino.