“I’m tired to death
Of holding this cup.”
“I like to be fat,
I hate to drink dew,
It’s a weak cold draught
That nourishes few.
“Great poets, they say,
Must live near the skies!”
“That’s me!” cried out Joke;
“I’m ever so wise!
“I’m tired to death
Of holding this cup.”
“I like to be fat,
I hate to drink dew,
It’s a weak cold draught
That nourishes few.
“Great poets, they say,
Must live near the skies!”
“That’s me!” cried out Joke;
“I’m ever so wise!