You May Also Like / View all maxioms
Some men are born to feast, and not to fight;
Whose sluggish minds, e'en in fair honor's field,
read more
Some men are born to feast, and not to fight;
Whose sluggish minds, e'en in fair honor's field,
Still on their dinner turn--
Let such pot-boiling varlets stay at home,
And wield a flesh-hook rather than a sword.
'Tis not the food, but the content,
That makes the table's merriment.
'Tis not the food, but the content,
That makes the table's merriment.
The master of art or giver of wit,
Their belly.
The master of art or giver of wit,
Their belly.
When the Sultan Shah-Zaman
Goes to the city Ispahan,
Even before he gets so far
read more
When the Sultan Shah-Zaman
Goes to the city Ispahan,
Even before he gets so far
As the place where the clustered palm-trees are,
At the last of the thirty palace-gates
The pet of the harem, Rose-in-Bloom,
Orders a feast in his favorite room--
Glittering square of colored ice,
Sweetened with syrup, tinctured with spice,
Creams, and cordials, and sugared dates,
Syrian apples, Othmanee quinces,
Limes and citrons and apricots,
And wines that are known to Eastern princes.
"Live like yourself," was soon my lady's word,
And lo! two puddings smok'd upon the board.
"Live like yourself," was soon my lady's word,
And lo! two puddings smok'd upon the board.
God never sendeth mouth but he sendeth meat.
God never sendeth mouth but he sendeth meat.
Oh, herbaceous treat!
'Twould tempt the dying anchorite to eat;
Back to the world he'd turn his read more
Oh, herbaceous treat!
'Twould tempt the dying anchorite to eat;
Back to the world he'd turn his fleeting soul,
And plunge his fingers in the salad bowl;
Serenely full the epicure would say,
"Fate cannot harm me,--I have dined to-day."
"Pray take them, Sir,--Enough's a Feast;
Eat some, and pocket up the rest."
"Pray take them, Sir,--Enough's a Feast;
Eat some, and pocket up the rest."
And she said, As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but
an handful of meal read more
And she said, As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but
an handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse:
and, behold, I am gathering two sticks, that I may go in and
dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it, and die.