Once spake Saint Martinus:
'This world, my lord, is nothing here,
But a priest's slice is good with wine or beer.'
The 'leventh November was the day
When he this with emphasis chanced to say,
'Therefore it is our use
To roast the Martin's Goose.'
I, poor bird, that is my reward,
And they eat me by a subscription card.
How different it was upon the heather,