Whoe'er has dined at the vice-regal dome
Can tell, I ween, a very trifling story;
Car il a vu Chevalier I'Astronome,
Son Excellence, I mean, in all his glory.
C'est un savant — bien savant — Gastronome.
With the French name of every dish he'll bore ye.
"Gigot de mouton; c'est un olio.
Sir, a veal cutlet's just a fraise de veau."
"Fennell, I'll thank thee for some fricassée:
Le roti, n'est il pas tout comme il faut?
Monsieur Piquant excels himself to-day:
He'll have his grant of land. Pray tell him so."
"But if our friend the Major should say Nay,
What then?" "What then! Ah! then, Fennell, you know,
I never mind these things myself. I'll wager
They'll all be rightly managed by the Major."
"Das glauben kann ich nieht, mein edler Herr;"
Exclaims old Rumker from the lower end,
Tearing a turkey like a German bear:
(C'est le grand béte, although the Viceroy's friend.)
"Den Secretaire kenne ich wohl, Meinherr,
Ihm soll ich prüfen auch morgens abend;
Und meine Thäten will er halten — Mein — "
"Rumker, come pledge me in a glass of wine."
"Das will ich gern, Meinherr, you guté healt."
"Well, 'tis a fine night for our observations:
Rumker, shew Major Wall Orion's belt,
Or Herschell's satellites' suboccultations."
"Mein edler Herr, das kann nicht in der Welt.
No look de stern, no give mein deeds and rations."
"Ah! bien, Major, it is a noble science;
But Rumker almost sets us at defiance."
Can tell, I ween, a very trifling story;
Car il a vu Chevalier I'Astronome,
Son Excellence, I mean, in all his glory.
C'est un savant — bien savant — Gastronome.
With the French name of every dish he'll bore ye.
"Gigot de mouton; c'est un olio.
Sir, a veal cutlet's just a fraise de veau."
"Fennell, I'll thank thee for some fricassée:
Le roti, n'est il pas tout comme il faut?
Monsieur Piquant excels himself to-day:
He'll have his grant of land. Pray tell him so."
"But if our friend the Major should say Nay,
What then?" "What then! Ah! then, Fennell, you know,
I never mind these things myself. I'll wager
They'll all be rightly managed by the Major."
"Das glauben kann ich nieht, mein edler Herr;"
Exclaims old Rumker from the lower end,
Tearing a turkey like a German bear:
(C'est le grand béte, although the Viceroy's friend.)
"Den Secretaire kenne ich wohl, Meinherr,
Ihm soll ich prüfen auch morgens abend;
Und meine Thäten will er halten — Mein — "
"Rumker, come pledge me in a glass of wine."
"Das will ich gern, Meinherr, you guté healt."
"Well, 'tis a fine night for our observations:
Rumker, shew Major Wall Orion's belt,
Or Herschell's satellites' suboccultations."
"Mein edler Herr, das kann nicht in der Welt.
No look de stern, no give mein deeds and rations."
"Ah! bien, Major, it is a noble science;
But Rumker almost sets us at defiance."
