Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orcahrd white,
Like nothing else...
Thank you for the Brussels sprouts Tepid, limp and giving gas, And my in-laws, chiefly louts, And the turkey that, alas, Roasted dry from dawn ‘til dark Now resembles Joan of Arc; Thank you for the stuffing...