Toggle Dropdown Serif Sans-serif Monospaced Dyslexic Bold Italic Font size: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 Mark as read [object Object] Only page of title 196 9 Easy Maecenas, you're of noble line -- (Of which the proof convincing Is that you buy me all my wine Without so much as wincing.) To different men of different minds Come different kinds of pleasure; There's Marshall Field -- what joy he finds In shears and cloth-yard measure! With joy Prof. Swing is filled While preaching godly sermons; With bliss is Hobart Taylor thrilled When he is leading germans. While Uncle Joe Medill prefers To run a daily paper, To Walter Gresham it occurs That law's the proper caper. With comedy a winning card, How blithe is Richard Hooley; Per contra, making soap and lard, Rejoices Fairbank duly. While Armour in the sugar ham His summum bonum reaches, MacVeagh's as happy as a clam In canning pears and peaches. Let Farwell glory in the fray Which party hate increases -- His son-in-law delights to play Gavottes and such like pieces. So each betakes him to his task -- So each his hobby nurses -- While I -- well, all the boon I ask Is leave to write my verses. Give, give that precious boon to me And I shall envy no man; If not the noblest I shall be At least the happiest Roman! End of title Sign in to unlock this title Sign in to continue reading, it's free! As an unregistered user you can only read a little bit. Links External resources bookshop Wikipedia Project Gutenberg Goodreads Google Books
Maecenas, you're of noble line -- (Of which the proof convincing Is that you buy me all my wine Without so much as wincing.)
To different men of different minds Come different kinds of pleasure; There's Marshall Field -- what joy he finds In shears and cloth-yard measure!
With joy Prof. Swing is filled While preaching godly sermons; With bliss is Hobart Taylor thrilled When he is leading germans.
While Uncle Joe Medill prefers To run a daily paper, To Walter Gresham it occurs That law's the proper caper.
With comedy a winning card, How blithe is Richard Hooley; Per contra, making soap and lard, Rejoices Fairbank duly.
While Armour in the sugar ham His summum bonum reaches, MacVeagh's as happy as a clam In canning pears and peaches.
Let Farwell glory in the fray Which party hate increases -- His son-in-law delights to play Gavottes and such like pieces.
So each betakes him to his task -- So each his hobby nurses -- While I -- well, all the boon I ask Is leave to write my verses.
Give, give that precious boon to me And I shall envy no man; If not the noblest I shall be At least the happiest Roman!
