I Entreat You, Alfred Tennyson
I entreat you, Alfred Tennyson, Come and share my haunch of venison. I have too a bin of claret, Good, but better when you share it. Tho tis only a small bin, Theres a stock of it within. And as sure as Im a rhymer, Half a butt of Rudeheimer. Come; among the sons of men is one Welcomer than Alfred Tennyson?
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"I entreat you, Alfred Tennyson,..."
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