In a lordly dish smokes the huge, well-browned Turkey,
Chickens were there, to whose innocent lives Thanksgiving is ever a death-knell;
Luscious roasters from the pen, the large ham of a red complexion,
Garnish'd and intermingled with varied forms of vegetable wealth.
Ample pasties were attached, and demolished with dexterity,
Custards and tarts, and compounds of the golden-faced pumpkin,
Prime favorite, without whose aid, scarcely could New England have been thankful.
Apples, with plump, waxen cheeks, chestnuts, and the fruit of the hickory,
Bisected neatly, without fragment, furnished the simple dessert,
Finale to that festival where each guest might be safely merry.