Classic Poem

Whether in Michigan they grew,
Or by the far Pacific,
Or Jerseywards, I never knew
Or cared; they were magnifique!
They set my hungry eyes aflame,
My heart to beating quicker,
When trotted out by that good dame.
A-drowned in spicy liquor!

Of divers sweets in many a land
I have betimes partaken,
Yet now for those old joys I stand,
My loyalty unshaken!
My palate, weary of the ways
Of modern times, beseeches
The toothsome grace of halcyon days
And Mrs. Reilly's peaches!

Studded with cloves and cinnamon,
And duly spiced and pickled,
That viand was as choice an one
As ever palate tickled!
And by those peaches on his plate
No valorous soul was daunted,
For oh, the more of them you ate
The more of them you wanted!

The years have dragged a weary pace
Since last those joys I tasted,
And I have grown so wan of face
And oh, so slender-waisted!
Yes, all is sadly changed, and yet
If this eulogium reaches
A certain lady, I shall get
A quick return in peaches.