Classic Poem

On his milking the amende honourable to Wales and the Welsh, in
some verses, the last of which was the following:

"And Punch--incarnate justice,
Intends henceforth to lick
All who shall scorn and sneer at you:
You jolly little brick."


I'm glad, old friend, that you your error see,
Of sneering where you cannot understand:
You've owned your fault: let by-gones by-gones be;
Past blows from Punch forgetting--there's my hand.
Lick whom you list--creation if you please:
Let those who choose laugh at me: let them sneer;
I earn, before I eat, my bread and cheese;
I love my language; and I like my beer.
Content with what I have, so that it come
Through honest sources: happy at my lot,
I seek not--wish not--for a fairer home.
Hard work: my Bible: children: wife: a cot:
These are my birthright, these I'll strive to keep,
And round my humble hearth affection bind:
From Eisteddfodau untold pleasures reap;
And try to live at peace with all mankind.
Then glad am I that you your error see,
Of sneering where you cannot understand:
You've owned your fault: let by-gones by-gones be;
Past blows from Punch forgetting--there's my hand.