Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/448

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

430

How Shall I Dine?
Gently blow and stir the fire, Lay the mutton down to roast,Dress it nicely I desire, In the dripping put a toast,That I hunger may remove:Mutton is the meat I love.
On the dresser see it lie, Oh! the charming white and red!Finer meat ne'er met my eye, On the sweetest grass it fed:Let the jack go swiftly round,Let me have it nicely bi owned.
On the table spread the cloth, Let the knives be sharp and clean:Pickles get and salad both, Let them each be fresh and green:With small beer, good ale, and wine,O ye gods! how I shall dine.
Hot Day.
What a plague's a summer breakfast, Eat whate'er you will!A roll is but a nasty thing, And toast is nastier still.
Then how to pass the time away Till dinner—there's the doubt:You're hot if you stay in the house— Your hot if you go out.
When dinner comes, oh, help us all! Such frying! such a stew!You're hot if you don't touch a bit— Your hotter if you do.
Then after dinner what to do? No knowing where to rove—The gentlemen are hot below, The ladies hot above.
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.