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.

"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.

When mighty roast beef was the Englishman's food
It ennobled our hearts and enriched our blood--
Our read more

When mighty roast beef was the Englishman's food
It ennobled our hearts and enriched our blood--
Our soldiers were brave and our courtiers were good.
Oh! the roast beef of England.
And Old England's roast beef.

But he answered and said, It is written, Man shall not live by
bread alone, but by every word read more

But he answered and said, It is written, Man shall not live by
bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth
of God.

Annius has some two hundred tables, and servants for every table.
Dishes run hither and thither, and plates fly read more

Annius has some two hundred tables, and servants for every table.
Dishes run hither and thither, and plates fly about. Such
entertainments as these keep to yourselves, ye pompous; I am ill
pleased with a supper that walks.

(For many walk, of whom I have told you often, and now tell you
even weeping, that they are read more

(For many walk, of whom I have told you often, and now tell you
even weeping, that they are the enemies of the cross of Christ:
Whose end is destruction, whose God is their belly, and whose
glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things.)

'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.

All human history attests
That happiness for man,--the hungry sinner!--
Since Eve ate apples, much depends on read more

All human history attests
That happiness for man,--the hungry sinner!--
Since Eve ate apples, much depends on dinner.

O hour, of all hours, the most blesse'd upon earth,
The bless'd hour of our dinners!

O hour, of all hours, the most blesse'd upon earth,
The bless'd hour of our dinners!