And so we take a part. The sixth course drifts
Into the plain and usual dessert,
With walnuts ’neath one’s nose, and port each side;
Our evening clothes were made on purpose wide
To hold such stuff. And now some manly voice,
Turning towards politics and meerschaum-pipes,
Makes ladies leave the room. Last course of all
That ends this dinner-party history
Is coffee, cognac, weeds, and utter bliss,
Sans flirts, sans prudes, sans wife, sans womankind.