The Hopslam Sonnet

O Hopslam, Hopslam! Wherefore art thou Hopslam?
Deny thy distributor and come forth to me;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll remain hop thirsty
Tis my want of your taste that is my enemy.
Thou shall be free, though thou is not.
Where art thou, Gomer's wait list is a fortnight long
Nor keg won't be at the Saucer until the Monday hence,
A cask at that.
What's in a name? That which we call hoppy
By any other word would smell as sweet.
So Hopslam would, were he not Hopslam called,
Retain that dear perfection which he owns.
Without that title. Hopslam, doff thy name;
And for thy name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself from retail shelves next week.

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