And never mind seeking for truffles
Although they be ever so rare.
But a plain leg of mutton, my Lucy,
I prithee get ready at three:
Have it smoking, and tender, and juicy,
And what better meat can there be?
And when it has feasted the master,
'Twill amply suffice for the maid;
Meanwhile I will smoke my canaster,
And tipple my ale in the shade.