Debarred from my beef, kickshaws tempt me in vain,
Oh, give me my plainly-cooked sirloin again;
The greens, piping hot, to be brought to my call,
Give me them with the under-cut, dearer than all.
Beef, beef, roast, roast beef,
There’s no meat like beef; there’s no meat like beef.
Friar Tuck.
Tea, Sweet Tea.
’Midst mansions or cottages, where’er we may be,