University of Virginia Library

'Tis dinner! silence all, and state,
Long footmen, peeresses, and plate,
A sprinkling of the Guards—some lovers,—
My memory fails me in the covers—
I leave them to those—gentlemen,—
Who wield the “fashionable” pen;
Historiographers of pies,
Who lay the carte before your eyes.
Adepts in all the tribes of jelly,
The very toughest names they'll spell ye,
Through all the páté-climax soar,
From poisson up to perigord;
Or stretching still a higher strain,
Touch the rognons a la champagne.
Then, as their loftier genius shines,
Amaze your feelings with the wines!
The St. Peray, La fitte—Lunelle,
You'd think the bouquet meets your smell!
La Rose, Leoville, Latour, Preignac,
You'd swear you had them at your back!
The Sillery, cool, delicious, still,
You feel your whole machinery thrill!
The pink champagne, rich, creamy, sparkling,
You see the room around you darkling!
The king of cups, the grande Bourgogne,
You feel your whole seven senses gone!
Though says the R*g*rs, at his age
He'd like a little Hermitage.
But others, the superior works,
Give you exact the spoons and forks,
So that if spoon or fork be miss'd,
The butler buys them for a list.
Nay others, abler than them both,
Square-inch the table and the cloth;
(Of Algebra the fine appliance,
The modern, mighty march of science!)
Tell you how many off them dined;
How many valets stood behind,
How many buttons on their coats,
How many sauce-and-butter boats;
How many fair ones fill'd their glasses,
Who bumpers it! who sips, who passes!—
Long live!—ye wonder working works,
Where something for all palates lurks,—
For sixpence, where the hungry sinner,
Miss what he may, will find a dinner.
And all, from footmen up to cooks,
Own you the very books of books!