At Billiards or at Bowls your Prowess try, But now Rump-fteaks your Stomach can appeafe, Whate'er I fay, the City and the Court • And And fure, the Produce of Weft-Indian Seas, Say, how does Inftinct to your Taste proclaim That from fam'd Thanet's Ifle thefe Lobfters came? Or that thofe Flounders, in Fleet-market bought, Were off the Tower, at five this Morning, caught? You figh for Venifon in a Forest bred, And Mutton loath, though ev'n at Banfted fed; Red Mullets, Wheat-ears are most dainty Fare, And Pyes of Perigord are good and rare: Your Tafte no Fruits but Pine-apples can pleafe, No Greens, but Winter 'Sparagus and Pease: Why but because what our cold Soil denies, At vaft Expence a Hot-house Stove supplies? Ev'n Turkey-pouts, if hatch'd in Nature's spite, By fage Reaumur, your Palate would delight. 'Give me, fays Quin, proportion'd to my Paunch, And fat as Falstaff, an enormous Haunch! "How does the Sight, the Scent, tranfport my Soul, • When kept a Fortnight, and when cook'd byCale! Oh! may each Nerve, by fome propitious Blaft, Or Auguft's Heat, be tainted to his Tafte! While Fat remains, his Labours never cease, Happier than Hottentots with Guts and Greafe. At length he's fill'd; and now, methinks, forSmell, A Leg of Lamb quite fresh might ferve as well. And And foon, too foon, Gout, Dropfy, Stone, or Age Of James's Deeds this furely was the chief, Eliza's Courtiers din'd on boil'd and roaft, Her Maidens breakfasted on Sack and Toaft. Then no John-Dories were at London bought, Nor every Year fuch Shoals of Turtles caught. The Sea, 'tis true, an equal Number fed, But fafe they refted in their watry Bed; 'Till a rich Creole, longing to be Mayor, First taught the City this luxurious Fare. And now at Almack's fhould three Lords agree To have a Hedgehog drefs'd in Fricaffee, Cits would prefer it to their favourite Fish, And Hedgehog would be foon the reigning Difh. Wide is the Diff'rence between nine and nine, And a cold Mefs of Scraps with home brew'dWine. Then each Extreme with prudent Caution fhun, Nor cloy with too much Food, nor ftarve with none. A fordid Citizen, for Rapine fam'd, In Town, in Country, was the Vulture nam'd:.. Poor Poor in Appearance as a Highland Chief, Nor weakly hoard his Wealth, nor madly spend: Now learn what Bleffings Temperance enjoys, And think how hearty were your Meals whenBoys! In Eton's happy Shades, how blithe and gay The Morning Study and the Evening Play! At early Noon how dainty was the Treat, Though Mutton, Mutton was the conftant Meat; Nor figh'd you then for Trifle, Trout, or Tart, Contented with one Dish, and no Defert. Now, fince in one promifcuous Mefs you join Sweet, fav'ry, four, hot, cold, Cream, Cyder, Wine, What Pains, whatQualms are in your Bowels bred! Hence your diftemper'd Frame, and aching Head. Mark Mark when the Guefts from public Dinners rife, How pale their Vifage, and how funk their Eyes! Who could fuppofe fuch Beings born to think, Or more than tottering Statues fill'd with Drink! The Reaper in his straw-roof'd Shed all Night Serenely fleeps, and rifes with the Light; When hungry dines, and fwills his Keg when dry, His Cloth the Grafs, his Canopy the Sky. Yet twice a Year he takes a chearful Glafs, And featly foots it with fome favourite Lafs, When Twelfth-Day crowns its temporary Kings, Or when with Harveft-Home the Village rings. But fhould he, careless of his Sheaves, repair To every Horfe-race, Cricket-match, or Fair, And riot all the Week on Cakes and Ale, How could he fhun an Hofpital or Jail! In Gothic Halls our Sires contented din'd On Ribs and Chines, fubftantial in their Kind ; At Christmas feafted every Farmer round, And all their Toils in ftout October drown'd: Age, Sicknefs, Want, went fmiling from their Nor needed Workhoufes nor Parish Rates. [Gates, Then'midft their Tenants Lords could pass the Year: Now, new-built Squares unpeople every Shire. Oh! that I then at firft had feen the Light, Ere Prudence was a Jeft, and Vice polite! Haft thou no Sense of Shame, no virtuous Pride? Reflect how Chartres liv'd, how Villiers died! |