So, so, friend Dick, an old chum cries,
The worms have pretty picking!
No Surgeon better lov’d himself;
He lov’d old rum and brandy
As much as misers do their pelf,
Or children sugar-candy.
And as for eatables—in short,
He lov’d both roast and boil’d;
Fish, flesh, or fowl, of any sort,
If not by cooking spoil’d.