Choros and actors and their lord and king
The poet: supper, still he needs must spread—
And this time all was conscientious fare:
He knew his man, his match, his master—made
Amends, spared neither fish, flesh, fowl nor wine:
So merriment increased, I promise you,
Till—something happened."
Here he strangely paused,
"After that,—Well, it either was the cup
To the Good Genius, our concluding pledge,