The poor man will praise it so hath he good cause,
That all the year eats neither partridge not read more

The poor man will praise it so hath he good cause,
That all the year eats neither partridge not quail,
But sets up his rest and makes up his feast,
With a crust of brown bread and a pot of good ale.

'Tis not her coldness, father,
That chills my labouring breast;
It's that confounded cucumber
read more

'Tis not her coldness, father,
That chills my labouring breast;
It's that confounded cucumber
I've ate and can't digest.

You praise, in three hundred verses, Sabellus, the baths of
Ponticus, who gives such excellent dinners. You wish to read more

You praise, in three hundred verses, Sabellus, the baths of
Ponticus, who gives such excellent dinners. You wish to dine,
Sabellus, not to bathe.

As long as I have fat turtle-doves, a fig of your lettuce, my
friend, and you may keep your read more

As long as I have fat turtle-doves, a fig of your lettuce, my
friend, and you may keep your shell-fish to yourself. I have no
wish to waste my appetite.

One solid dish his week-day meal affords,
An added pudding solemniz'd the Lord's.

One solid dish his week-day meal affords,
An added pudding solemniz'd the Lord's.

What will not luxury taste? Earth, sea, and air,
Are daily ransack'd for the bill of fare.
read more

What will not luxury taste? Earth, sea, and air,
Are daily ransack'd for the bill of fare.
Blood stuffed in skins is British Christians' food,
And France robs marshes of the croaking brood.

They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet
Quaff immortality and joy.

They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet
Quaff immortality and joy.

For when for the time ye ought to be teachers, ye have need that
one teach you again which read more

For when for the time ye ought to be teachers, ye have need that
one teach you again which be the first principles of the oracles
of God: and are become such as have need of milk, and not of
strong meat.
For every one that useth milk is unskilful in the word of
righteousness: for he is a babe.
But strong meat belongeth to them that are of full age, even
those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern
both good and evil.

'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.