And on the dish with pleasure seemed to look.
THE dinner o'er, the widow then resolved,
To ask the boon which in her mind resolved.
She thus begun:—good sir, you'll think me mad,
To come and to your breast fresh trouble add;
I've much to ask, and you will feel surprise,
That one, for whom your love could ne'er suffice,
Should now request your celebrated bird;
Can I expect the grant?—the thought 's absurd
But pardon pray a mother's anxious fear;