Would fall, I doubt, unto my share;
Wherefore I will my manhood try,
To fight a battle if I dare.
For pastry-crust, like castle walls,
Stands braving me unto my face;
I am not well until it falls,
And I made captain of the place.
The prunes so lovely look on me,
I cannot chuse but venture on:
The pye-meat spiced brave I see,