[Line: 18 _1654_ 'Un_to_'.] [Line: 19 _1677_ &c. 'weaken'd': _putide_.] [Line: 20 A meeting-point of many pious poems.] [Line: 24 _1677_ 'vaulting _to_'--hardly an improvement.] [Line: 26 Dryden may have had Cleveland in mind (as he pretty often, and most naturally had, seeing that the poems must have 'spent their youth with him') when he wrote some of the latest and most beautiful of his own lines to the Duchess of Ormond (Lady Mary Somerset): O daughter of the Rose whose cheeks unite The differing titles of the Red and White. ] [_1677_ '_Divides_ her York and Lancaster'--pretty palpable emendation to supply the apparent lack of a verb.] [Lines: 27-30 It has been suggested to me that the sense wants mechanical aid to clear it up; and I have therefore made a visible parenthesis of 'whose ... shop', following _1677_.] [Line: 34 thinking] fearing _1677_.] [Line: 36 _1653_ &c. 'saints'--a misprint, as _1647_, _1651_ have the singular.] [Line: 38 Here, for once, Cleveland achieves the really poetical conceit.] [Line: 42 _1647_, _1651_, _1653_, &c. 'bids'--again a mere misprint.] [Line: 43 _1647_, _1651_, _1653_ 'would'.] [Line: 47 straw] For 'strew', as in the A. V.] [Line: 49 _1649_, _1651_, _1653_, 'perceives' (an unconscious echo of 'leaves' in l. 48).] Upon a Miser that made a great feast, and the next day died for grief. Nor 'scapes he so; our dinner was so good My liquorish Muse cannot but chew the cud, And what delight she took in th' invitation Strives to taste o'er again in this relation. After a tedious grace in Hopkins' rhyme, Not for devotion but to take up time, Marched the trained-band of dishes, ushered there To show their postures and then as they were. For he invites no teeth; perchance the eye He will afford the lover's gluttony. 10 Thus is our feast a muster, not a fight, Our weapons not for service, but for sight. But are we tantalized? Is all this meat Cooked by a limner for to view, not eat? Th' astrologers keep such houses when they sup On joints of Taurus or their heavenly Tup. Whatever feasts be made are summed up here, His table vies not standing with his cheer. His churchings, christenings, in this meal are all, And not transcribed but in th' original. 20 Christmas is no feast movable; for lo, The self-same dinner was ten years ago! 'Twill be immortal if it longer stay, The gods will eat it for ambrosia. But stay a while; unless my whinyard fail Or is enchanted, I'll cut off th' entail. Saint George for England then! have at the mutton When the first cut calls me bloodthirsty glutton. Stout Ajax, with his anger-coddled brain, Killing a sheep thought Agamemnon slain; 30 The fiction's now proved true; wounding his roast