At the Tavern

Is tell you my mind, Annes Tayliur: Dame,
I deem we lak plesur.
Look here, dame, unlok your dur:
Alack, we have no likur!

Frend, and we ar fer in det
For your fine good wine, God wot,
A short gint has a pint pot:
I drank ones, I wold drink yet.

Is tell you my mind, Anes Tayliur, dame;

I deme we lak plesur.
Loke here, dame, unloke your dur!
Alacke, we have no likur!

Frende, and we are fer in dette
For your fine gode wine, God watte,
A short gint has a pint potte;
I dranke onys; I wold drinke yette.
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