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 (Or to the three, for want of more) And made the Lager fly.

And as we drank that Lager, Fanny and Jack and I, It quenched the fire and cured the tire, And made us wondrous spry. We uttered many a fearful pun, The woods resounded with our fun, And Echo laughed reply.

Wer liebt nicht Weib und Lager, Whenever the chance comes by, He is a great goose and not of much use, And just as well may die, And when you go on a Summer ride,