Chapter I

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, do,
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, do,
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 sell at the “Chequers” at Chanctonbury Green
The very best beer that ever was seen.
_Hey Dominus, Domine, Dominum, Domini, Domino, Domino._