Listen to my tale of woe.

Woe betide the man who refuses to conform.

Masters, I have to tell a tale of woe,A tale of folly and of wasted life,Hope against hope, the bitter dregs of strife,Ending, where all things end, in death at last.

The biggest fish he ever caught were those that got away.

How gracious those dews of solace that over my senses fall At the clink of the ice in the pitcher the boy brings up the hall.

When I demanded of my friend what viands he preferred, He quoth, "A large cold bottle, and a small hot bird!"