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Don't Eat With Your Mouth Full

Where can we live but days?

Land of my Mother
leek
steepholm
Those poor and scatt'red few of Brute's high linage left,
For succour hither came; where that unmixéd race
Remains unto this day, yet owners of this place:
Of whom no Flood nor Hill peculiarly hath song.
These, then, shall be my theme: lest Time too much should wrong
Such Princes as were ours, since sever'd we have been;
And as themselves, their fame be limited between
The Severne and our Sea, long pent within this place,
Till with the term of Welsh, the English now embase
The nobler Britons' name, that well-near was destroy'd
With pestilence and war, which this great Isle annoyd.

Michael Drayton, Poly-Olbion, The Ninth Song