He should write on the doors of the city gate
In capital letters, EST!
o one evening bright, as the journey led
Through an old Etruscan town,
Not loath was the servant to stop and taste
Advertisement
Its vintage of high renown.
He quaffed it deep, and he quaffed it long,
He sighed to drink again;
To seek for a better wine he knew
In all the world were vain.
So he rose in tears, and he sought an inn
Where his lord and suite might rest,
And wrote on the gate, to attract his eye,
The motto: EST! EST! EST!
When the hearty priest saw the triple name,
Want to keep up with breaking news?
Subscribe to our email newsletter.
Read more in News
Baseball.
