John Gay

All in the Downs are fleet was moor'd.

All in the Downs are fleet was moor'd.

Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise.
For envy is a kind of praise.

Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise.
For envy is a kind of praise.

How bless'd, how envied, were our life,
Could we but scape the poulterer's knife!
But man, curs'd read more

How bless'd, how envied, were our life,
Could we but scape the poulterer's knife!
But man, curs'd man, on Turkeys preys,
And Christmas shortens all our days:
Sometimes with oysters we combine,
Sometimes assist the savory chine;
From the low peasant to the lord,
The Turkey smokes on every board.

Lash'd into Latin by the tingling rod.

Lash'd into Latin by the tingling rod.

In every rank, or great or small,
'Tis industry supports us all.

In every rank, or great or small,
'Tis industry supports us all.