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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!
They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet
Quaff immortality and joy.
They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet
Quaff immortality and joy.
God never sendeth mouth but he sendeth meat.
God never sendeth mouth but he sendeth meat.
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.
In their palate alone is their reason of existence.
[Lat., In solo vivendi causa palata est.]
In their palate alone is their reason of existence.
[Lat., In solo vivendi causa palata est.]
Poor Tom, that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the todpole, the
wall-newt and the water; that in the read more
Poor Tom, that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the todpole, the
wall-newt and the water; that in the fury of his heart, when the
foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets, swallows the old rat
and the ditch-dog, drinks the green mantle of the standing pool;
who is whipped from tithing to tithing, and stock-punished and
imprisoned; who hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to
his body,
Horse to ride, and weapon to wear,
But mice and rats, and such small deer,
Have been Tom's food for seven long year.
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.
"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.
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.
