-- A foe to FAST toois helet me tell ye

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the list to be enrolled
Whitbread contemplated the knights of Peg
Then to his generous sovereign made a leg
311
And saidHe was afraid he was too old.
He thanked however his most gracious king
For offering to make him SUCH A THING.
Butah yilai:
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and with his beautiful voice and magnet[link widoczny dla zalogowanych] yilai:
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What was
happening! a different reason 'twas I fear [link widoczny dla zalogowanych] yilai:
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I'LL PROLONG MY STRAIN!
It was not age that bade the man of beer
The proffered honor of the monarch shun:
The tale of Margaret's knifeand royal fright
Had almost made him damn the NAME of knight
A tale that farrowed such a world of fun.
He mocked the prayer too by the king appointed
Even by himself the Lord's Anointed:--
A foe to FAST toois helet me tell ye;
And though a Presbyteriancan not think
Heaven (quarrelling with meat and drink)
Joys in the grumble of a hungry belly [link widoczny dla zalogowanych]!
Now from the table with Caesarean air
Up rose the monarch with his laureled brow
When Mr. Whitbreadwaiting on his chair
Expressed much thanksmuch joyand made a bow.
Miss Whitbread now so quick her curtsies drops
Thick as her honored father's Kentish hops;
Which hop-like curtsies were returned by dips
That never hurt the royal knees and hips;
For hips and knees of queens are sacred things
That only bend on gala da