To teach the empty stomach how to fill,
To pour red port adown the parched craw;
Without that dread dessert--to pay the bill.

I'm off--methinks I smell the long-lost savour;
Hail, platter-sound! to poet music sweet:
Now grant me, Jove, if not too great a favour,
Once in my life as much as I can eat!



SUNDAY.

Come, thou blessed day of rest!
Soother of the tortured breast,
Wearied souls release from toil,
Life's eternal sad turmoil;
How I love thy tuneful bells
Which a welcome story tells!
Bids the wanderer rest and pray
On this peaceful holy-day.
All creation seems to pause--
Man, uncatechized by laws,
Looks to God with grateful eyes,
In such blessed sympathies,
All his rebel nature dies!
See the monster crime hath made,
Resting from his restless trade,
Unfit to live, afraid to die,
Hear his deep unconscious sigh,