XXVII.
Tells us, is Winter champion there,
As in our milder fighting air?
Say, what are Chilly loans?
What cures they have for rheums beside,
And if their hearts get ossified
From eating bread of bones?
XXVIII.
Whether they are such dwarfs—the quicker
To circulate the vital liquor,—
And then, from head to heel—
How short the Methodists must choose
Their dumpy envoys not to lose
Their toes in spite of zeal?
XXIX.
Whether ’twill soften or sublime it
To preach of Hell in such a climate—
Whether may Wesley hope
To win their souls—or that old function
Of seals—with the extreme of unction—
Bespeaks them for the Pope?
XXX.
Whether the lamps will e’er be “learn’d”
Where six months’ “midnight oil”
is burn’d
Or Letters must confer
With people that have never conn’d
An A, B, C, but live beyond
The Sound of Lancaster!
XXXI.
O come away at any rate—
Well hast thou earn’d a downier state—
With all thy hardy peers—
Good lack, thou must be glad to smell dock,
And rub thy feet with opodeldock,
After such frosty years.
XXXII.
Mayhap, some gentle dame at last,
Smit by the perils thou hast pass’d.
However coy before,
Shall bid thee now set up thy rest
In that Brest Harbor, woman’s breast,
And tempt the Fates no more!
ODE TO W. KITCHENER, M.D.[25]
AUTHOR OF “THE COOK’S
ORACLE,” “OBSERVATIONS ON VOCAL MUSIC,”
“THE
ART OF INVIGORATING AND PROLONGING
LIFE,” “PRACTICAL OBSERVATIONS
ON TELESCOPES, OPERA-GLASSES,
AND SPECTACLES,” “THE HOUSEKEEPER’S
LEDGER,” AND “THE
PLEASURE OF MAKING A WILL.”
“I rule the roast, as Milton says! “—Caleb Quotem.
[Footnote 25: Hood, for obvious purposes, slightly departs from the true spelling of Dr. Kitchiner’s name. He was an M. D. of Glasgow, who, having been left a handsome fortune by his father, abandoned the active practice of his profession, and devoted himself to science, notably to that of optics, as well as to gastronomy, being himself eminent as a gourmet. He was the author of a once famous Cookery Book, The Cook’s Oracle; and an improved kitchen range still bears his name.]