Waves all her onions to the trembling breeze;
While the great Feasted views with silent glee
His scattered limbs in Yankee fricassee.
Sweet is the scene where genial friendship plays
The pleasing game of interchanging praise;
Self-love, grimalkin of the human heart,
Is ever pliant to the master’s art;
Soothed with a word, she peacefully withdraws
And sheaths in velvet her obnoxious claws,
And thrills the hand that smooths her glossy fur