A scoller disposed to eate broyled meate
Tooke a colde peece and badde his boye heate it:
Whiche by mistakeinge the boye strayte did eate.
What, quothe his maister, I badde thee not eate it,
But heate it with an H. I trowe thourte madde.
And eate it with my teethe Sir me thoughte you badde.
(Nicholas Bacon)
More Poetry from Nicholas Bacon:
- In Commendacion Of The Meane Estate (Nicholas Bacon Poems)
- A Prayer Of A Penytente (Nicholas Bacon Poems)
- Made At Wymbleton In His Lo: Greate Sickenes In The Laste Yeare Of Quene Marye (Nicholas Bacon Poems)
- The Prologe To The Maske Of Myndes (Nicholas Bacon Poems)
- A Carolle. (Nicholas Bacon Poems)
- Of A Fryer And A Marryner (Nicholas Bacon Poems)