human
I, John Bo-peep, and you four sheep, With each one his good fleece; If that you are willing to give me your shilling, 'Tis fifteen pence apiece.
gpt
By the Lord! roared the giant president,
human
I believe this is my son Randolph! and on his owning himself, the young poet was kindly entertained, spent a glorious evening, was soaked in sack,
gpt
From Apollo?
human
From the heaven Of my delight, where the boon Delphic god Drinks sack and keep his bacchanalia, And has his incense and his altars smoking, And speaks in sparkling prophecies; thence I come, My brains perfumed with the rich Indian vapour, And heightened with conceits.... And from a mighty continent of pleasure Sails thy brave Careless.
gpt
Devil, who died in 1627, seems to have been a witty butt of a man, much such another as honest Jack Falstaff; a merry boon companion, not only witty himself, but the occasion of wit in others, quick at repartee, fond of proverbial sayings, curious in his wines. A good old song, set to a fine old tune, was written about him, and called
human
Old Sir Simon the King.
gpt
Sun Tavern,