The Dinner Table Talk.

Now soup, if you like made of beef very nice,

You'll find this the next thing to the height of perfection;

And eaten with ketchup, or thickened with rice,

Will suit you I know, if this is your selection.

My own disposition to this one inclines,

But dreadful dyspepsia destroys all the pleasure

Of dinner, except it's well tinctured with wines

Which plan I adopt as a health-giving measure.

A table well ordered, well furnished, and neat,

No wonder our nature for ever is tempting;

And I'd like to know if Mahomet could beat

Its pleasures — dyspepsia for ever exempting —

With all that he promised in paradise gained,

With Houris attendant in place of the churls

With which we are worried, tormented, and pained —

The colored men servants, or green Irish girls.