NOW God be wi' old Symon, For he made cans to many a one, And a good old man was he; And Jenkin was his journeyman, And he could tipple off every can; And thus he said to me: To whom drink you, Sir Knave? Turn the timber like the lave; Ho! jolly Jenkin, I spy a knave in drinking; Come, troll the bowl to me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE DEATH OF MR. PURCELL by JOHN DRYDEN THE STORY OF AUGUSTUS WHO WOULD NOT HAVE ANY SOUP by HEINRICH HOFFMANN EPITAPH INTENDED FOR SIR ISAAC NEWTON, IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY by ALEXANDER POPE SONNET: 9 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE VERSES, OCCASIONED BY AN AFFECTING INSTANCE OF SUDDEN DEATH by BERNARD BARTON THE FIRST BUD O' THE YEAR by CHARLES GRANGER BLANDEN |