The mutton broth and bouilli both came up in season due.
The grace is said, when Provan’s head at the door appears in view;
The bard at work, like any Turk, first nods an invitation,
For who so free as all the three from priggish botheration?
“Ere long the Towdies deck the board with a cod’s head and shoulders,
And the oyster sauce it surely was great joy to all beholders.
To George our king a jolly can of royal port is poured—
Our gracious king who knighted Dan with his own shining sword;
The next we sip with trembling lip—’tis of the claret clear—
To the hero dead that cup we shed, and mix it with a tear.