Thou wast indeed no dunce, To treat thy subjects and thyself at once: Many a hungry poet eats His brains like thee, But few there be Could live so long on their receipts. What living soul or sinner Would slight thy invitation to a dinner, Ought with the Danaides to dwell, Draw gravy in a cullender, and hear For ever in his ear The pleasant tinkling of thy dinner bell. Immortal Kitchener! thy fame Shall keep itself when Time makes game Of other men’s--yea, it shall keep, all weathers, And thou shalt be upheld by thy pen feathers. Yea, by the sauce of Michael Kelly! Thy name shall perish never, But be magnified for ever-- --By all whose eyes are bigger than their belly. Yea, till the world is done-- --To a turn--and Time puts out the sun, Shall live the endless echo of thy name. But, as for thy more fleshy frame, Ah! Death’s carnivorous teeth will tittle Thee out of breath, and eat it for cold victual; But still thy fame shall be among the nations Preserved to the last course of generations. Ah me, my soul is touch’d with sorrow! To think how flesh must pass away-- So mutton, that is warm to-day, Is cold, and turn’d to hashes, on the morrow! Farewell! I would say more, but I Have other fish to fry. THE CIGAR. Some sigh for this and that; My wishes don’t go far; The world may wag at will, So I have my cigar. Some fret themselves to death With Whig and Tory jar, I don’t care which is in, So I have my cigar. Sir John requests my vote, And so does Mr. Marr; I don’t care how it goes, So I have my cigar. Some want a German row, Some wish a Russian war; I care not--I’m at peace, So I have my cigar. I never see the Post, I seldom read the Star; The Globe I scarcely heed, So I have my cigar. They tell me that Bank Stock Is sunk much under par; It’s all the same to me, So I have my cigar. Honours have come to men My juniors at the Bar; No matter--I can wait, So I have my cigar. Ambition frets me not; A cab or glory’s car Are just the same to me, So I have my cigar. I worship no vain gods, But serve the household Lar; I’m sure to be at home, So I have my cigar. I do not seek for fame, A General with a scar; A private let me be, So I have my cigar. To have my choice among The toys of life’s bazaar, The deuce may take them all So I have my cigar. Some minds are often tost By tempests like a tar; I always seem in port, So I have my cigar. The ardent flame of love My bosom cannot char, I smoke, but do not burn, So I have my cigar.