THE DREGIAD
Owed to Sir Daniel
From ancient times the noblest knights
Have joined in mirth and song
To celebrate with grape and grain
And drink the whole (k)night long
Chivalric orders came and went
Till very few were founded
When from the Halls of Luxemburg
The call to drink was sounded
Behold, the Order of the Dregs
With drinking hat apparel
Met in the Temple of Canach
To drain the golden barrel
The Order grew as (k)nights were crowned
With Pilsen Urquell headgear
And lines of portraits in the Hall
Recalled th' inaugural Dreg beer
But as the ranks of Dregs were swelled
With revelry and booze
From Holy Pilsen Urquell came
The dreadful, awful news
The em'rald caps with tassels long
The Order's sacred titfer
Were running out, were made no more
No other hat was fit for
The Order, though the Master called
On Dregs from near and far
To seek for caps from other beers
But none were on a par
With Pilsen Urquell, mighty brew
Its caps both green and tasselled
This dearth of Urquell drinking caps
Left all our Order hassled
How could we keep tradition strong
How could we plight the troth
Without the caps to give to Dregs
When first they swear the oath
To once more let a glass be served
Whene'er they sit at table
And drink the brew of hop and malt
So long as they are able
But as all hope at last had run
From out our master's brain
He ordered one, a Czech by birth
The sacred cup to drain
And join the Order as a (K)night
Upon St Dregmas day
And as he raised his tassel high
This Dreg was heard to say
"I fear no man, nor beast, nor beer
To Pilsen I will quest
To hunt the sacred drinking cap
And I shall know no rest
Until the Pilsen Urquell caps
To Luxemburg are brought"
And so in haste he ventured forth
And many times he fought
His way through dangers, fears and woes
Until at length he came
Into the presence of the one
Who guards the sacred flame
Of Urquell, Pilsen's finest beer
And there in awe he knelt
And told of what the Order feared
And how its members felt
Now when great Urquell hears our woes
And when our hero begs
For caps, his heart is melted and
He listens to the Dregs
Then summons he from dungeons dark
The dwarf whose knee belongs
To Wotan, god of drinking (k)nights
And charms him with his songs
The dwarf is thus enchanted such
That from his hoard he brings
Nine mythic Urquell drinking caps
And a couple of golden rings
Our hero looks upon this trove
He can't believe his pleasure
He casts the golden rings aside
But keeps the precious treasure
With thanks and praise for Urquell's charm
He hastens from his sight
He leaps upon his trusty steed
And rides both day and (k)night
He rides through flood and fire and steel
But never is unnerved
Until the caps are safe and we
Can let one more be served
And so we raise our glasses high
And stand on stalwart legs
To drink a toast to bold Sir Dan
The saviour of the Dregs
Sir Richard de Robinson KD BBB BOD
October 2006
This may be poetic license. Calculating when St Dregmas day should fall was the preserve of a secret order of brewing monks. Unfortunately the calculation ceremony involved imbibing large quantities of their own product, which meant that they could never remember when St Dregmas day was supposed to be, how to calculate it or, indeed, why they wanted to know in the first place. Besides, they were a secret order so nobody knew how to find out the results of their calculations, even if they could have remembered them.
It is believed that another saga or epic poem told of the journey to Pilsen in almost infinitely tedious detail. Archaeologists recently found traces of the text while excavating the latrine of an ancient inn, alongside a skeleton believed to be that of a bard.
"Person of restricted growth" does not fit the metre.
