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Article A PSALM OF LIFE AT SIXTY. Page 1 of 1
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A Psalm Of Life At Sixty.
A PSALM OF LIFE AT SIXTY .
WHAT THE H EART OF THE OLD MAN SAID TO THE GENIAL GUSHER AT CHRISTMAS TIME .
TELL me not in Christmas Numbers Life is but a gourmet ' s dream ! Sure your sense is dead or slumbers : Peptics are not what they seem . Life is serious ! Life is solemn !
Ancl good grub is not its goal : Menu-making by the column Helps not the dyspeptic soul . Not delig ht from cates to borrow Is the aim of prudent will ,
But to eat so that to-morrow Finds us not exceeding ill . Feeds are long and health is fleeting ; And old stomachs , once so strong , Find that indiscriminate eating
Very quickly puts them wrong . In the banquet ' s dainty battle , At the table ' s toothsome strife , Feed not like dumb , hungry cattle , Wield a cautious fork and knife !
Trust no menu , howe ' er pleasant ; Nig htmare-Nemesis is dread ; Swig and swallow like a peasant , You'll repent it when in bed ! Memories of big feeds remind us
Christmas pudding peace can slay ; Touch it , and next morn shall find us Indigestion ' s helpless prey . Pudding that perhaps another , Light of heart and bri ght of brain
, Some strong-stomached younger brother , Eating , sends his plate again . Let us then beware high feeding , Or the love of luscious cate , Still abstaining , ne ' er exceeding ,
Learn to dodge dyspeptic fate !—Punch .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
A Psalm Of Life At Sixty.
A PSALM OF LIFE AT SIXTY .
WHAT THE H EART OF THE OLD MAN SAID TO THE GENIAL GUSHER AT CHRISTMAS TIME .
TELL me not in Christmas Numbers Life is but a gourmet ' s dream ! Sure your sense is dead or slumbers : Peptics are not what they seem . Life is serious ! Life is solemn !
Ancl good grub is not its goal : Menu-making by the column Helps not the dyspeptic soul . Not delig ht from cates to borrow Is the aim of prudent will ,
But to eat so that to-morrow Finds us not exceeding ill . Feeds are long and health is fleeting ; And old stomachs , once so strong , Find that indiscriminate eating
Very quickly puts them wrong . In the banquet ' s dainty battle , At the table ' s toothsome strife , Feed not like dumb , hungry cattle , Wield a cautious fork and knife !
Trust no menu , howe ' er pleasant ; Nig htmare-Nemesis is dread ; Swig and swallow like a peasant , You'll repent it when in bed ! Memories of big feeds remind us
Christmas pudding peace can slay ; Touch it , and next morn shall find us Indigestion ' s helpless prey . Pudding that perhaps another , Light of heart and bri ght of brain
, Some strong-stomached younger brother , Eating , sends his plate again . Let us then beware high feeding , Or the love of luscious cate , Still abstaining , ne ' er exceeding ,
Learn to dodge dyspeptic fate !—Punch .