Poem by William Makepeace Thackeray

Persicos Odi

Dear LUCY, you know what my wish is, –
  	I hate all your Frenchified fuss:
Your silly entrées and made dishes
  	Were never intended for us.
No footman in lace and in ruffles
  	Need dangle behind my arm-chair;
And never mind seeking for truffles,
  	Although they be ever so rare.

But a plain leg of mutton, my Lucy,
  	I pr’ythee get ready at three:
Have it smoking, and tender and juicy,
  	And what better meat can there be?
And when it has feasted the master,
  	’Twill amply suffice for the maid;
Meanwhile I will smoke my canaster,
  	And tipple my ale in the shade.

1. Damages, Two Hundred Pounds
2. The Garret
3. Dear Jack
4. Mr. Molony’s Account of the Ball
5. Abd-El-Kader at Toulon or, The Caged Hawk

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