A little bread a crust a crumb
A little bread a crust a crumb
A little trust a demijohn
Can keep the soul alive
Not portly, mind! but breathing warm
Conscious as old Napoleon,
The night before the Crown!
A modest lot A fame petite
A brief Campaign of sting and sweet
Is plenty! Is enough!
A Sailor’s business is the shore!
A Soldier’s balls! Who asketh more,
Must seek the neighboring life!
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