What makes Existence really nice Is Virtue—with a dash of Vice.
"Enough is as Good as a Feast."
What is Enough? An idle dream! One cannot have enough, I swear, Of Ices or Meringues-and-Cream, Nougat or Chocolate Eclairs, Of Oysters or of Caviar, Of Prawns or Paté de Foie Grar!
Who would not willingly forsake Kindred and Home, without a fuss, For Icing from a Birthday Cake, Or juicy fat Asparagus, And journey over countless seas For New Potatoes and Green Peas?
They say that a Contented Mind Is a Continual Feast;—but where The mental frame, and how to find, Which can with Turtle Soup compare? No mind, however full of Ease, Could be Continual Toasted Cheese.
For dinner have a sole to eat, (Some Perrier Jouet, '92,) An Entrée then (and, with the meat, A bottle of Lafitte will do), A quail, a glass of port (just one), Liqueurs and coffee, and you've done.
But should you want a hearty meal, And not this gourmet's lightsome snack, Fill up with terrapin and teal, Clam chowder, crabs and canvasback; With all varieties of sauce, And diff'rent wines for ev'ry course.
Your tastes may be of simpler type;— A homely glass of "half-and-half," An onion and a dish of tripe, Or headpiece of the kindly calf. (Cruel perhaps, but then, you know, "'Faut tout souffrir pour être veau!")
'Tis a mistake to eat too much Of any dishes but the best; And you, of course, should never touch A thing you know you can't digest; For instance, lobster;—if you do, Well,—I'm amayonnaised at you!
Let this be your heraldic crest, A bottle (chargé) of Champagne, A chicken (gorged) with salad (dress'd), Below, this motto to explain— "Enough is Very Good, may be; Too Much is Good Enough for Me!"