No More Learning

Mark you, I’m a dabster at Glaucè’s snatches and those ditties Pyrrhus makes: (sings)
O Croton is a bonny town as Zacynth by the sea,
And a bonny sight on her eastward height is the fane of Laciny,
Where boxer Milon one fine morn made fourscore loaves his meal,
And down the hill another day, while lasses holla’d by the way,
To Amaryllis,           gay led the bull by the heel.