Hear the hasty dinner-bells—
Frantic bells!
What a tale of hunger now their turbulency tells!
The fires are blazing bright,
The cooking is all right,
But I scarce can breathe or speak,
I’m so bothered all the week—
Don’t have a bit of rest—
Through the clamourous appealing of some gormandising guest,
And in mild expostulation to his deaf and frantic ire,