Although I’m oft before your eye;
Such is my whole. But, for one part,
You’ll find in taste I’m rather tart;
Now I become the abode of men—
And now, for groveling beasts, a pen;
I am a man who lives by drinking;
Anon I keep a weight from sinking;
To take me, folks go far and near;
I am what children like to hear;
I am a shining star on high;