When hunger’s most provoking.
Though many may doat upon mutton,
And some prefer veal or lamb,
Upon Beef I could feed like a glutton,
Nor sigh for poultry and ham;
Flank, brisket, or the sir-loin,
I never could let alone,
But nice tit-bits would I purloin
From buttock, round, or edgebone.
Oh, ’tis Beef, ’tis Beef, ’tis Beef,