They Put Arsenic In His Meat And

Why, If 'tis Dancing You Would Be, There's Brisker Pipes Than Poetry. Say, For What Were Hop-yards Meant, Or Why Was Burton Built On Trent? Oh Many A Peer Of England Brews Livelier Liquor Than The Muse, And Malt Does More Than Milton Can To Justify God's Ways To Man. Ale, Man, Ale's The Stuff To Drink For Fellows Whom It Hurts To Think: Look Into The Pewter Pot To See The World As The World's Not.

A Moment's Thought Would Have Shown Him. But A Moment Is A Long Time, And Thought Is A Painful Process.

I Find Cambridge An Asylum, In Every Sense Of The Word.

But If You Ever Come To A Road Where Danger; Or Guilt Or Anguish Or Shame's To Share. Be Good To The Lad Who Loves You True, And The Soul That Was Born To Die For You; And Whistle And I'll Be There.

On Wenlock Edge The Wood's In Trouble;his Forest Fleece The Wrekin Heaves;the Wind It Plies The Saplings Double, And Thick On Severn Snow The Leaves.