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“Some love the matin-chimes, which tell The hour of prayer to sinner: But better far’s the mid-day bell, Which speaks the hour of dinner; For when I see a smoking fish, Or capon drowned in gravy, Or noble haunch on silver dish, Full glad I sing mine ave. “My pulpit is an ale-house bench, Whereon I sit so jolly; A smiling rosy country wench My saint and patron holy.
"Some love the matin-chimes, which toll The hour of prayer to sinner: But better far's the mid-day bell, Which speaks the hour of dinner; For when I see a smoking fish, Or capon drown'd in gravy, Or noble haunch on silver dish, Full glad I sing mine ave. "My pulpit is an ale-house bench, Whereon I sit so jolly; A smiling rosy country wench My saint and patron holy.
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