Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538930" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Bob Polter</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">BOB POLTER was a navvy, and<br>His hands were coarse, and dirty too,<br>His homely face was rough and tanned,<br>His time of life was thirty-two.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He lived among a working clan<br>(A wife he hadn't got at all),<br>A decent, steady, sober man -<br>No saint, however - not at all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He smoked, but in a modest way,<br>Because he thought he needed it;<br>He drank a pot of beer a day,<br>And sometimes he exceeded it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At times he'd pass with other men<br>A loud convivial night or two,<br>With, very likely, now and then,<br>On Saturdays, a fight or two.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But still he was a sober soul,<br>A labour-never-shirking man,<br>Who paid his way - upon the whole<br>A decent English working man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One day, when at the Nelson's Head<br>(For which he may be blamed of you),<br>A holy man appeared, and said,<br>&quot;Oh, ROBERT, I'm ashamed of you.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He laid his hand on ROBERT'S beer<br>Before he could drink up any,<br>And on the floor, with sigh and tear,<br>He poured the pot of &quot;thruppenny.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Oh, ROBERT, at this very bar<br>A truth you'll be discovering,<br>A good and evil genius are<br>Around your noddle hovering.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;They both are here to bid you shun<br>The other one's society,<br>For Total Abstinence is one,<br>The other, Inebriety.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He waved his hand - a vapour came -<br>A wizard POLTER reckoned him;<br>A bogy rose and called his name,<br>And with his finger beckoned him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The monster's salient points to sum, -<br>His heavy breath was portery:<br>His glowing nose suggested rum:<br>His eyes were gin-and-WORtery.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His dress was torn - for dregs of ale<br>And slops of gin had rusted it;<br>His pimpled face was wan and pale,<br>Where filth had not encrusted it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Come, POLTER,&quot; said the fiend, &quot;begin,<br>And keep the bowl a-flowing on -<br>A working man needs pints of gin<br>To keep his clockwork going on.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">BOB shuddered: &quot;Ah, you've made a miss<br>If you take me for one of you:<br>You filthy beast, get out of this -<br>BOB POLTER don't wan't none of you.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The demon gave a drunken shriek,<br>And crept away in stealthiness,<br>And lo! instead, a person sleek,<br>Who seemed to burst with healthiness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;In me, as your adviser hints,<br>Of Abstinence you've got a type -<br>Of MR. TWEEDIE'S pretty prints<br>I am the happy prototype.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;If you abjure the social toast,<br>And pipes, and such frivolities,<br>You possibly some day may boast<br>My prepossessing qualities!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">BOB rubbed his eyes, and made 'em blink:<br>&quot;You almost make me tremble, you!<br>If I abjure fermented drink,<br>Shall I, indeed, resemble you?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;And will my whiskers curl so tight?<br>My cheeks grow smug and muttony?<br>My face become so red and white?<br>My coat so blue and buttony?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Will trousers, such as yours, array<br>Extremities inferior?<br>Will chubbiness assert its sway<br>All over my exterior?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;In this, my unenlightened state,<br>To work in heavy boots I comes;<br>Will pumps henceforward decorate<br>My tiddle toddle tootsicums?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;And shall I get so plump and fresh,<br>And look no longer seedily?<br>My skin will henceforth fit my flesh<br>So tightly and so TWEEDIE-ly?&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The phantom said, &quot;You'll have all this,<br>You'll know no kind of huffiness,<br>Your life will be one chubby bliss,<br>One long unruffled puffiness!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Be off!&quot; said irritated BOB.<br>&quot;Why come you here to bother one?<br>You pharisaical old snob,<br>You're wuss almost than t'other one!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;I takes my pipe - I takes my pot,<br>And drunk I'm never seen to be:<br>I'm no teetotaller or sot,<br>And as I am I mean to be!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Schwenck+Gilbert">William Schwenck Gilbert</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538930" data-title="Bob Polter de William Schwenck Gilbert" data-description="BOB POLTER was a navvy, and
His hands were coarse, and dirty too,
His homely face was rough and tanned,
His time of life was thirty-two.

He lived among a working clan
(A wife he hadn't got at all),
A decent, steady, sober man -
No saint, however ..."></div>
</div>
</div>