Classic Poem

Five wreaths! When will he come, I say!
What's that I hear you grunt—‘Assez!
You've got no change’? Deuce take you then:
Servants forsooth, you're highwaymen.
‘You've done no wrong’? Well, we will see:
Here, Jenny, bring his book to me.
‘Five shillings wine.’ You dirty dog!
I'll truss you up, you Lapith hog!
And what's this—‘Sausage, half-a-crown
Fish, eggs and pastry’ all put down,
‘And honey’—Stop. I've had enough.
To-morrow I'll go through the stuff.
Now off to Truefitt's, and be quick
Unless you want to feel my stick.
Five silver vials I must have
One for each kiss my darling gave.
Our bed was witness to my vow
And I must pay the price, I trow.