Classic Poem

Scarce was the dinner served, ere you
Had swept away our every dish;
Sow's udder, woodcock meant for two,
Pig's ear, the choicest kinds of fish,
The lamprey and the chicken's thigh,
The pigeon stewed in sauces rare —
And we, the hungry company,
Had nothing left to do but stare!
That bulging cloth, a dripping pack,
Your slave bore off. Pretend or feel
Some shame, and put our dinner back;
'Twas not for your to-morrow's meal.