Content, Not Cates.

A poem by Robert Herrick

'Tis not the food, but the content
That makes the table's merriment.
Where trouble serves the board, we eat
The platters there as soon as meat.
A little pipkin with a bit
Of mutton or of veal in it,
Set on my table, trouble-free,
More than a feast contenteth me.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Content, Not Cates.' by Robert Herrick

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy