MÆCENAS BIDS HIS FRIEND TO DINE.

I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, and sound wine,— The Roederer chilly to a charm, As Juno's breath the claret warm, The sherry of an ancient brand. No Persian pomp, you understand,— A soup, a fish, two meats, and then A salad fit for aldermen (When aldermen, alas the days! Were really worth their mayonnaise); A dish of grapes whose clusters won Their bronze in Carolinian sun; Next, cheese—for you the Neufchâtel, A bit of Cheshire likes me well; Café au lait or coffee black, With Kirsch or Kümmel or cognac (The German band in Irving Place By this time purple in the face); Cigars and pipes. These being through, Friends shall drop in, a very few— Shakespeare and Milton, and no more. When these are guests I bolt the door, With "Not at home" to any one Excepting Alfred Tennyson.