Most palatably down; and then the entrées,
Smelling divinely in their shallow basins
Made of the shining metal; then a turkey,
Full of forcemeats and roasted to a turn,
Swimming in gravy garnished thick with sausage,
Raising the tide of expectation
Even in the bishop’s mouth; and then the pudding
In grand round belly, and with holly crown’d;
With eyes intent we watch each slice that’s cut,
Full of good things and spicy substances;