I Knew An Old Man At A Fair Who Made It His Twice-Yearly Task To Clamber On A Cider Cask And Cry To All The Yokels There:, "Lovers To-Day And For All Time Preserve The Meaning Of My Rhyme: Love Is Not Kindly Nor Yet Grim But Does To You As You To Him. "Whistle, And Love Will Come To You, Hiss, And He Fades Without A Word, Do Wrong, And He Great Wrong Will Do, Speak, He Retells What He Has Heard. "Then All You Lovers Have Good Heed Vex Not Young Love In Word Or Deed: Love Never Leaves An Unpaid Debt, He Will Not Pardon Nor Forget." The Old Man'S Voice Was Sweet Yet Loud And This Shows What A Man Was He, he'd Scatter Apples To The Crowd And Give Great Draughts Of Cider, Free.