I Entreat You Alfred Tennyson

 I entreat you, Alfred Tennyson, 
Come and share my haunch of venison.
 
I have too a bin of claret, 
Good, but better when you share it.
 
Tho' 'tis only a small bin, 
There's a stock of it within.
 
And as sure as I'm a rhymer, 
Half a butt of Rudeheimer.
 
Come; among the sons of men is one 
Welcomer than Alfred Tennyson?

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