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.

I almost die for food, and let me have it!

I almost die for food, and let me have it!

Some men are born to feast, and not to fight;
Whose sluggish minds, e'en in fair honor's field,
read more

Some men are born to feast, and not to fight;
Whose sluggish minds, e'en in fair honor's field,
Still on their dinner turn--
Let such pot-boiling varlets stay at home,
And wield a flesh-hook rather than a sword.

I want every peasant to have a chicken in his pot on Sundays.
[Fr., Je veux que le dimanche read more

I want every peasant to have a chicken in his pot on Sundays.
[Fr., Je veux que le dimanche chaque paysan ait sa poule au pot.]

For I look upon it, that he who does not mind his belly will
hardly mind anything else.

For I look upon it, that he who does not mind his belly will
hardly mind anything else.

Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye
shall eat, or what ye shall read more

Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye
shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye
shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body more
than raiment?

See, how the liver is swollen larger than a fat goose! In
amazement you will exclaim: Where could this read more

See, how the liver is swollen larger than a fat goose! In
amazement you will exclaim: Where could this possibly grow?

Thou say'st his meat was sauced with thy upbradings;
Unquiet meals make ill digestions;
Thereof the raging read more

Thou say'st his meat was sauced with thy upbradings;
Unquiet meals make ill digestions;
Thereof the raging fire of fever bred.

I sing the sweets I know, the charms I feel,
My morning incense. and my evening meal,
read more

I sing the sweets I know, the charms I feel,
My morning incense. and my evening meal,
The sweets of Hasty-Pudding.