How strong is my desire 'fore earth and heaven,
To tell how daintily I cook'd his dinner
'Gainst his return! By all Athena's owls!
'Tis no unpleasant thing to hit the mark
On all occasions. What a fish had I—
And ah! how nicely fried! Not all bedevill'd
With cheese, or brown'd atop, but though well done,
Looking alive, in its rare beauty dress'd.
With skill so exquisite the fire I temper'd,
It seem'd a joke to say that it was cook'd.