ED 360 03 07 02
ED 360 03 07 02
Fanny Keate: Verse given to Dr Brown
Item
1816
POEM:
Dear Sam, who theHone lamp and Pulpit have tried,
You ask me what system of Life I would choose,
To manage my own little farm is my Pride,
And to lounge where I like in my dirty old shoes
In a Patron's chill vestibule why should I freeze,
Why dance up and down at the smiles of the Great,
When to warm my own hearth I can lop my own Trees,
And pursue my own Game on my own small Estate.
Who would angle for meals that can catch his own Fish,
As the Honey unbought what Desert half so sweet,
Give me Eggs of my own in a clean wooden dish,
And my Hind's lusty daughter to cook up the treat.
Whilst for Health I can plough, and for exercise dig,
May the wretch who dislikes me, my system forbear,
May he veil his grey locks in an Alderman's Wig
Grow gouty when Sheriff, and die when Lord Mayor
On outside: Verses given to me by Mrs Cunningham in 1816 on the pleasures of the ye Life of a Farmer 1816
Dear Sam, who theHone lamp and Pulpit have tried,
You ask me what system of Life I would choose,
To manage my own little farm is my Pride,
And to lounge where I like in my dirty old shoes
In a Patron's chill vestibule why should I freeze,
Why dance up and down at the smiles of the Great,
When to warm my own hearth I can lop my own Trees,
And pursue my own Game on my own small Estate.
Who would angle for meals that can catch his own Fish,
As the Honey unbought what Desert half so sweet,
Give me Eggs of my own in a clean wooden dish,
And my Hind's lusty daughter to cook up the treat.
Whilst for Health I can plough, and for exercise dig,
May the wretch who dislikes me, my system forbear,
May he veil his grey locks in an Alderman's Wig
Grow gouty when Sheriff, and die when Lord Mayor
On outside: Verses given to me by Mrs Cunningham in 1816 on the pleasures of the ye Life of a Farmer 1816
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