Inscribed to an Alderman.
Know ye the land where the leaf of the myrtle
Is bestowed on good livers in eating sublime?
Where the rage for fat ven’son and love of the turtle
Preside o’er the realms of an epicure clime?
Know ye the land where the juice of the vine
Makes Aldermen learned, and Bishops divine?
Where each Corporation, deep flushed with its bloom,
Waxes fat o’er the eyes of the claret’s perfume?
Thick spread is the table with choicest of fruit,