Classic Poem

Good Madam with kynd speach and promise fayr
that from my wife you would not give a ragg,
But she should be Exector sole and heyr.
I was (the more foole I) so proud and bragg,
I sent to you against Saint James his fayr,
a Tearce of Clarret wine, a great fat Stag.
You straight to all your neighbors made a feast,
each man I met hath filled up his paunch,
with my red dear, onely I was no guest
nor ever since did tast of side or haunch.
Well Madam, you maie bid me hope the best,
that of your promise you be sound or staunch,
Else, I might doubt, I should your Land inherit.
that of my Stag did not one morsell merit.