Oh some are fond of red wine, and some are fond of white,
And some are all for dancing by the pale moonlight:
But rum alone’s the tipple, and the heart’s delight
Of the old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French,
And some’ll swallow tay and stuff fit only for a wench;
But I’m for right Jamaica till I roll beneath the bench,
Says the old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
Oh some are for the lily, and some are for the rose,
But I am for the sugar-cane that in Jamaica grows;
For it’s that that makes the bonny drink to warm my copper nose,
Says the old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
Oh some are fond of fiddles, and a song well sung,
And some are all for music for to lilt upon the tongue;
But mouths were made for tankards, and for sucking at the bung,
Says the old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
Oh some are fond of dancing, and some are fond of dice,
And some are all for red lips, and pretty lasses’ eyes;
But a right Jamaica puncheon is a finer prize
To the old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
Oh some that’s good and godly ones they hold that it’s a sin
To troll the jolly bowl around, and let the dollars spin;
But I’m for toleration and for drinking at an inn,
Says the old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
Oh some are sad and wretched folk that go in silken suits,
And there’s a mort of wicked rogues that live in good reputes;
So I’m for drinking honestly, and dying in my boots,
Like an old bold mate of Henry Morgan.
John Masefield
Good Morning Gloucester 
In this age of MTV driven limited focus, All I saw was that Henry Morgan name. Seven times.
Ode to Folly Cove
(Cuz, what is a “ode” anyway?)
Jamaica’s the stlye of our new rum
Made in the Blackburn Park
Many barrels we have and some in a drum
Made with care and not on a lark
For Cape Ann, not beyond, well maybe a little
Sweet Molasses is what we ferment
Distill and age, we wait and we whittle
With Time, amber hue’s achievment
Banana, Butterscotch even Caramel
Nose and taste we want you to find
So we’ll package it up and then we will sell
Hoping you’ll call it the “Finest Kind”
Shipwrecks are off Folly Cove
Tapestries were woven there too
Whiting were seined and mackeral drove
Gloucester’s Rum is named after you.
Some will not care, we hope many do
We’ll have fans, like a “Doc” name of Herrick
drink what you like, not too much for you
Or you’ll see Zeus, that old harbor derrick
Folly Cove, Folly Cove, Folly Cove
Hand crafted at Ryan & Wood
Folly Cove, Folly Cove, Folly Cove
six times said, the marketing’s good!
Bob Ryan, Distiller (not poet, but maybe a slinger)
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