The Anglican Friar, and the Fish which he Took by Hook and by Crook / A Comic Legend

by active 19th century Novice

Though I don't wish to die, yet the dochters can't save,

When there's grief and rheumatics a-digging my grave."

"But the gold," said the Abbot, "I hope it's secure?"

"Did yer spake? Just spake out, for I'm deaf, certain sure."

"Down there?" said he louder, and pointed close by,

"Yes, there, there," she answered, "the creature will lie,

Dead drunk as a baste, while I'm forced to attend

To the cooking and washing, or else a hand lend

For to keep the house tidy, or else the clothes mend:

Yet I get but half-fed,