A canvas-back duck, rarely roasted, between us, A bottle of Chambertin, worthy of praise — Less noble a wine at our age would bemean us — A salad of celery en mayonnaise,
With the oysters we've eaten, fresh, plump, and delicious, Naught left of them now but a dream and the shells; No better souper e'en Lucullus could wish us — Why, even our waiter regards us as swells.
Your dress is a marvel, your jewels show finely, Your friends in the circle all envied your box; You say Lilli Lehman sang quite too divinely — I know I can n't lose on that last deal in stocks.
Without waits our footman to call for our carriage — Gad, how he must hate us, out there in the cold!— We rode in a hack on the day of our marriage, Number two forty-six — I was rolling in gold,
For I'd quite fifty dollars; and do n't you remember We drove down to Taylor's, a long cherished dream: How grandly I ordered — just think, in December!— Some cake, and two plates of vanilla ice-cream.
And how we enjoyed it! Your glance was the proudest Among the proud beauties, your face the most fair; I'm rather afraid, too, your laugh was the loudest; I know we shocked every one — we did n't care.
Now we'd care a great deal — with two sons at college, And daughters just out, whose sneers make you wince, We've tasted the fruit of Society's knowledge — I do n't think we've quite enjoyed anything since.
All through, dear? Now, do n't wipe your mouth with the doily! They're really not careful at all with their wine; It was n't half warmed — the salad was oily — And I do n't think the duck was remarkably fine.
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