To The Right Hon. The Earl Of Orrery, On His Promise To Sup With The Author. - Poem by Mary Barber
Tho' the Muse had deny'd me so often before,
I ventur'd this Day to invoke her once more.
She ask'd what I wanted; I said, with Delight,
Your Lordship had promis'd to sup here To--night;
That on an Occasion so much to my Honour,
I hop'd she'd excuse me for calling upon her.
To this she reply'd, with Disdain in her Looks:
If that be the Case, go summon your Cooks.
I told her in Answer, How little you eat;
That in vain I should hope to regale you with Meat;
That she knew, Wit and Humour to you were a Feast,
Who had, tho' no Stomach, an excellent Taste.
This calm'd her Resentment; she paus'd for a while--
Then the Goddess, propitious, reply'd with a Smile:
If with Humour and Wit you would have him delighted.
What need I be call'd?--Let the Dean be invited.
The Bus'ness is done, if with him you prevail;
For a Boyle, and a Swift, will each other regale.
Comments about To The Right Hon. The Earl Of Orrery, On His Promise To Sup With The Author. by Mary Barber
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye