Norman Rowland Gale

(1862-1942 / England)

The Ballade Of The Glutton - Poem by Norman Rowland Gale

I'm greedy by nature, and often in vain
Have lingered too long o'er the succulent hare,
Accepting the jelly, ignoring the pain,
Intent on receiving far more than my share.
I worship the plover's egg, tasty and rare,
And idolize fanciful French fricasses;
But what, darling dainties, with you can compare,
Soused salmon and lamb and young ducks and green peas?

I ask for real turtle, again and again-
Observe the Lord Mayor's John Thomases stare!
For kitchen-recitals to Susan and Jane,
And powdered impertinence, what do I care?
I sit down to eat, and I vow and declare,
I'd honour a dish were it made of stewed bees,
Though loyal to you, should you chance to be there,
Soused salmon and lamb and young ducks and green peas.

I cherish a chef, be he Grecian or Dane;
I even can relish a collop of bear;
I love ev'ry calf- if it boasts a fine brain-
And melt at a pullet, or even a pair.
Though gold's on the table and stately the fare,
I greet a grand entree with almost a sneeze
If you, dearest dainties, are sweet on the air-
Soused salmon and lamb and young ducks and green peas.

L'envoi:

O Redcoats of England, who struggle and dare,
Your glory's a morsel no glutton can please;
My yearning is all for a soft-cushioned chair,
Soused salmon and lamb and young ducks and green peas.

Topic(s) of this poem: food


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Read poems about / on: green, nature, pain



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

Poem Edited: Tuesday, December 16, 2014


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