As that Trifle where custard and macaroons meet;
Oh! the latest sweet tooth from my head must depart,
Ere the taste of that Trifle shall not win my heart.
Yet it is not the sugar that’s thrown in between,
Nor the peel of the lemon so candid and green;
’Tis not the rich cream that’s whipp’d up by a mill,
Oh, no! it is something more exquisite still.
’Tis that nice macaroons in the dish I have laid,
Of which a delicious foundation is made;
And you’ll find how the last will in flavor improve,