The Poetical Writings of Fitz-Greene Halleck/The Dinner Party

by Fitz-Greene Halleck and Joseph Rodman Drake

THE DINNER-PARTY.

ohnny R * * *⁷² gave a dinner last night,
The best I have tasted this season;
The wine and the wit sparkled bright,
’Twas a frolic of soul and of reason.
For the guests there was Cooper⁷³ and Kean;⁷⁴
Bishop Hobart⁷⁵ and Alderman Brasher,⁷⁶
Buchanan,⁷⁷ that foe to the Queen,
And Sherred the painter and glazier.

The beef had been warm, it is true,
But when we sat down it was colder;
The wine when we entered was new;
When we drank it, ’twas six hours older.
Mr. Kean, by-the-way, he’s no dunce;
His plate was so often repeating,
I thought he’d a genius at once
Not only for acting but eating.

Mr. Cooper, a sensible man,
Talked much of his scheme of rebuilding
The theatre on a new plan,
With fantastical carving and gilding.

Said he, “I’ve a thought of my own:
Of the people, so stupid the taste is,
I could fill the new playhouse in June
If I only could furnish new faces.”

In addition to those I have named,
Harry Cruger⁷⁸ was there in his glory,
That ci-devant jeune homme so famed
In Paris—but that’s an old story.
And General Lewis,⁷⁹ by Jove!
With two vests, and a new fashioned eye-glass,
He looked like the young god of love
At distance beheld through a spy-glass.

I have read my first stanza again,
And find that for once I have erred:
For Robert and Mat were the men,
Instead of Buchanan and Sherred.
Two Frenchmen, the best I have met,
At home in bad English and flummery,
Were there—just to make up the set,
Together with Master Montgomery.⁸⁰

Jack Nicholson⁸¹ wanted to come
With his pea-jacket on, but the ladies
Compelled him to leave it at home;
So he wore, as becoming his trade is,

Two epaulets—one on each arm,
And a sword, once of laurels the winner,
Ever ready, in case of alarm,
At carving a foe or a dinner.

Bishop Hobart said grace with an air
’Twould have done your heart good to have seen him,
And Lewis so sweetly did swear,
You’d have thought that the devil was in him.
And Alderman Brasher began
A song, but he could not go through it.
When Johnny R * * * asks me again
To a fête—by the Lord, I’ll go to it!

H.