There once was a farmer
Who plowed with his Plough
As the Angelus bells tolled
‘Hail Mary, Blessed art Thou.’
Daily he yearned for sweet fruit
Hung from many a Bough.
‘I shall be a square gent,’
He did quite often Vow.
Oh he never did take one
Though we’ll never know how.
Each time he did see them
He’d crinkle his brow
And respond with a
Regular gentlemanly Wow.
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Doing what you like is freedom; liking what you do is happiness.
That’s some strong will power!
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That’s especially true if he’s consistent with it. Then he’ll have been able to beat mankind’s oldest curse.
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