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.

You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same
abundance as your good fortunes are; and read more

You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same
abundance as your good fortunes are; and yet for aught I see,
they are as sick that surfeit with too much as they that starve
with nothing.

I fear it is too choleric a meat.
How say you to a fat tripe finely broiled?

I fear it is too choleric a meat.
How say you to a fat tripe finely broiled?

He hath a fair sepulchre in the grateful stomach of the judicious
epicure--and for such a tomb might be read more

He hath a fair sepulchre in the grateful stomach of the judicious
epicure--and for such a tomb might be content to die.

And solid pudding against empty praise.

And solid pudding against empty praise.

Blest be those feasts, with simple plenty crowned,
Where all the ruddy family around
Laugh at the read more

Blest be those feasts, with simple plenty crowned,
Where all the ruddy family around
Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail
Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale.

Whether woodcock or partridge, what does it signify, if the taste
is the same? But the partridge is dearer, read more

Whether woodcock or partridge, what does it signify, if the taste
is the same? But the partridge is dearer, and therefore thought
preferable.

Oh, dainty and delicious!
Food for the gods! Ambrosia for Apicius!
Worthy to thrill the soul of read more

Oh, dainty and delicious!
Food for the gods! Ambrosia for Apicius!
Worthy to thrill the soul of sea-born Venus,
Or titillate the palate of Silenus!

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.