Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to the lip of
his mistress. Your diet read more

Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to the lip of
his mistress. Your diet shall be in all places alike; make not a
City feast of it, to let the meat cool ere we can agree upon the
first place; sit, sit. The gods require our thanks.

Though we eat little flesh and drink no wine,
Yet let's be merry; we'll have tea and toast;
read more

Though we eat little flesh and drink no wine,
Yet let's be merry; we'll have tea and toast;
Custards for supper, and an endless host
Of syllabubs and jellies and mince-pies,
And other such ladylike luxuries.

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.

When they were filled, he said unto his disciples, Gather up the
fragments that remain, that nothing be lost.

When they were filled, he said unto his disciples, Gather up the
fragments that remain, that nothing be lost.

Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.

Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.

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.

"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.