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.

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.]

Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.

Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.

Born but to banquet, and to drain the bowl.

Born but to banquet, and to drain the bowl.

"Here, dearest Eve," he exclaims, "here is food." "Well,"
answered she, with the germ of a housewife stirring within read more

"Here, dearest Eve," he exclaims, "here is food." "Well,"
answered she, with the germ of a housewife stirring within her,
"we have been so busy to-day that a picked-up dinner must serve."

Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are.
[Fr., Dis moi ce que tu read more

Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are.
[Fr., Dis moi ce que tu manges, je te dirai ce que tu es.]

A friendly swarry, consisting of a boiled leg of mutton with the
usual trimmings.

A friendly swarry, consisting of a boiled leg of mutton with the
usual trimmings.

'Tis not the food, but the content,
That makes the table's merriment.

'Tis not the food, but the content,
That makes the table's merriment.

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.