Recaptured Rhymes Being a Batch of Political and Other Fugitives Arrested and Brought to Book. By H. D. Traill |
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“DOWN TO DESSERT.” |
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 | Recaptured Rhymes |  |
66
“DOWN TO DESSERT.”
(1881.)
Non nobis! The dinner is over,
Speed waiters the table to clear;
Disappears through the door the last cover—
But stay! what new guests have we here?
Who are these who come wearily trooping—
A strange unpresentable crowd,
With shoulders ungracefully stooping,
And knees somewhat awkwardly bowed;
In whose faces, though lacking in fulness,
The careful observer descries,
To redeem them from absolute dulness,
The wolf's most expressive of eyes?
The remains of the feast they examine
With hunger's keen glances alert:
Can it be that these children of Famine
Are only asked in to dessert?
Speed waiters the table to clear;
Disappears through the door the last cover—
But stay! what new guests have we here?
Who are these who come wearily trooping—
A strange unpresentable crowd,
With shoulders ungracefully stooping,
And knees somewhat awkwardly bowed;
In whose faces, though lacking in fulness,
The careful observer descries,
To redeem them from absolute dulness,
The wolf's most expressive of eyes?
67
With hunger's keen glances alert:
Can it be that these children of Famine
Are only asked in to dessert?
Can it be? Yes, it certainly can be:
The host, with magnificent air,
Bids welcome each want-stricken man be,
And leads him in state to a chair.
“My friends!” he exclaims with emotion,
“Your dinner, I fear will be small;
But, believe me, I hadn't a notion
You cared about dinners at all.
To forget that extreme inanition
Disposes a man to a meal
Was—was .... well, of course, an omission,
As now I regretfully feel.
But the moment I heard you'd expected
Your ‘cards’ would be sent, and were hurt
At the thought that your claims were neglected
I asked you at once to dessert.
The host, with magnificent air,
Bids welcome each want-stricken man be,
And leads him in state to a chair.
“My friends!” he exclaims with emotion,
“Your dinner, I fear will be small;
But, believe me, I hadn't a notion
You cared about dinners at all.
To forget that extreme inanition
Disposes a man to a meal
Was—was .... well, of course, an omission,
As now I regretfully feel.
But the moment I heard you'd expected
Your ‘cards’ would be sent, and were hurt
68
I asked you at once to dessert.
“But should I keep talking for ever
The past I should fail to undo;
So, late being better than never,
I beg you at once to fall to.
The prime haunch of venison is finished,
The saddle of mutton all gone,
The baron of beef is diminished
To yon undesirable bone.
But we've gooseberries crimson and yellow,
And strawberries (best without cream);
Those plums are delightfully mellow,
Those nuts—though I say it—supreme.
On those olives—best French, I assure you—
Your powers of consumption exert;
No pains have been spared to procure you
A truly recherché dessert.”
The past I should fail to undo;
So, late being better than never,
I beg you at once to fall to.
The prime haunch of venison is finished,
The saddle of mutton all gone,
The baron of beef is diminished
To yon undesirable bone.
But we've gooseberries crimson and yellow,
And strawberries (best without cream);
Those plums are delightfully mellow,
Those nuts—though I say it—supreme.
On those olives—best French, I assure you—
Your powers of consumption exert;
No pains have been spared to procure you
A truly recherché dessert.”
69
Oh, Gladstone! look well at that table!
Look well at it, Forster and Bright!
De vobis narratur my fable:
Can none of you read it aright?
When the strong meats of land-confiscation
Were dressed for the peasant's repast,
Was it really humane legislation
To think of the hungriest last?
It is not very pleasant perceiving
That you who that banquet have spread
Could so quietly contemplate leaving
These poor squalid wretches unfed;
That the fruits of your cutting and carving
To tenants alone should revert,
And the labourer, landless and starving,
Be only “brought down to dessert.”
Look well at it, Forster and Bright!
De vobis narratur my fable:
Can none of you read it aright?
When the strong meats of land-confiscation
Were dressed for the peasant's repast,
Was it really humane legislation
To think of the hungriest last?
It is not very pleasant perceiving
That you who that banquet have spread
Could so quietly contemplate leaving
These poor squalid wretches unfed;
That the fruits of your cutting and carving
To tenants alone should revert,
And the labourer, landless and starving,
Be only “brought down to dessert.”
| Recaptured Rhymes | |