So Stubble-geefe at Michaelmas are seen
Upon the fpit; next May produces Green.
The fate of things lies always in the dark:
What Cavalier would know St. James's Park * ?
For Locket's ftands where gardens once did fpring;
And Wild-ducks quack where Grafshoppers did fing;
A Princely Palace on that fpace does rise,
Where Sedley's noble Muse found Mulberries †.
Since Places after thus, what conftant thought
Of filling various dishes can be taught?
For he pretends too much, or is a fool,
Who'd fix thofe things where Fashion is a rule.
King Hardicnute, midft Danes and Saxons flout,
Carouz'd in nut-brown Ale, and din'd on Grout;
Which difh its pristine honour still retains,
And, when each Prince is crown'd, in fplendour reigns.
In the time of king Henry VIII, the Park was a wild wet field; but that prince, on building St. James's palace, inclofed it, laid it out in walks, and, collecting the waters together, gave to the new-inclofed ground and new-raised building the name of St. James. It was much enlarged by Charles II; who added to it feveral fields, planted it with rows of lime-trees, laid out the Mall, formed the canal, with a decoy, and other ponds, for water-fowl. The "Lime-trees or Tilia," whofe bloffoms are incomparably fragrant, were probably planted in confequence of a fuggeftion of Mr. Evelyn, in his " Fumifugium," published in 1661.-The improvements lately made feem in fome measure to have brought it into the ftate it was in before the Reftoration; at leaft, the Wild-ducks have in their turn given way to the Grafshoppers. N.
A comedy called, "The Mulberry Garden." N.
By Northern cuftom, duty was exprefs'd,
To friends departed, by their Funeral Feast.
Though I've confulted Holinfhed and Stow,
I find it very difficult to know
Who, to refresh th' attendants to a grave,
Burnt-claret firft or Naples-bifcuit gave.
Trotter from Quince and Apples firft did frame A Pye, which still retains his proper name : Though common grown, yet, with white Sugar ftrow'd, And butter'd right, its goodness is allow'd.
As Wealth flow'd in, and Plenty fprang from Feace, Good-humour reign'd, and Pleafures found increase. 'Twas usual then the banquet to prolong
By Mufick's charm, and fome delightful song;
Where every youth in pleafing accents strove
To tell the ftratagems and cares of Love;
How fome fuccefsful were, how others croft;
Then to the sparkling glass would give his toast,
Whofe bloom did moft in his opinion fhine,
To relifh both the Mufick and the Wine.
Why am I ftyl❜d a Cook, if I'm fo loth To marinate my Fish, or feafon Broth, Or fend up what I roaft with pleafing froth; If I my Mafter's gufto won't difcern, But, through my bashful folly, fcorn to learn? When among friends good-humour takes its birth, 'Tis not a tedious Feaft prolongs the mirth; But 'tis not reafon therefore you should fpare, When, as their future Burgefs, you prepare For a fat Corporation and their Mayor.
All things should find their room in proper place ;
And what adorns this treat, would that difgrace.
Sometimes the vulgar will of mirth partake,
And have exceffive doings at their wake :
Ev'n Taylors at their yearly Feafts look great,
And all their Cucumbers are turn'd to Meat.
A Prince, who in a Foreft rides aftray,
And, weary, to fome cottage finds the way,
Talks of no pyramids of Fowl, or bisks of Fish,
But, hungry, fups his Cream ferv'd up in earthen difh;
Quenches his thirst with Ale in nut-brown bowls,
And takes the hafty Rafher from the coals:
Pleas'd as King Henry with the Miller free,
Who thought himself as good a man as he.
Unless fome fweetnefs at the bottom lie,
Who cares for all the crinkling of the Pye?
If you would have me merry with your cheer,
Be fo yourself, or fo at least appear.
The things we eat by various juice control
The narrowness or largeness of our soul.
Onions will make ev'n Heirs or Widows weep;
The tender Lettuce brings on fofter fleep;
Eat Beef or Pye-cruft if you 'd serious be;
Your Shell-fish raises Venus from the Sea;
For Nature, that inclines to ill or good,
Still nourishes our paffions by our food.
Happy the man that has each fortune tried,
To whom the much has given, and much denied: 150
With abftinence all delicates he fees,
And can regale himself with Toaft and Cheese :
Your Betters will defpife you, if they fee
Things that are far furpaffing your degree;
Therefore beyond your fubftance never treat ;
'Tis plenty, in fmall fortune, to be neat.
'Tis certain that a Steward can't afford
An entertainment equal with his Lord.
Old age
is frugal; gay youth will abound
With heat, and fee the flowing cup go round.
A Widow has cold Pye; Nurfe gives you Cake;
From generous Merchants Ham or Sturgeon take.
The Farmer has brown Bread as fresh as day,
And Butter fragrant as the dew of May.
Cornwall Squab-pye, and Devon White-pot brings; 165.
And Leicester Beans and Bacon, food of Kings!
At Christmas-time, be careful of your fame,
See the old Tenants' table be the fame;
Then, if you would fend up the Brawner's head,
Sweet Rosemary and Bays around it fpread :
His foaming tufks let fome large Fippin grace,
Or midft thofe thundering fpears an Orange place;
Sauce like himfelf, offenfive to its foes,
The roguish Mustard, dangerous to the nofe.
Sack and the well-fpic'd Hippocras the Wine,
Waffail the bowl with ancient ribbands fine,
Porridge with Plumbs, and Turkeys with the Chine.
If you perhaps would try fome difh unknown,
Which more peculiarly you 'd make your own,
Like ancient failors ftill regard the coast,
By venturing out too far you may be loft.
By roafting that which your Forefathers boil'd,
And boiling what they roafted, much is fpoil'd.
That Cook to British palates is complete,
Whofe favoury hand gives turns to common meat. 185
Though Cooks are often men of pregnant wit,
Through nicenefs of their subject, few have writ.
In what an aukward found that Ballad ran,
Which with this bluftering paragraph began :
THERE WAS A PRINCE OF LUBBERLAND,
A POTENTATE OF HIGH COMMAND,
TEN THOUSAND BAKERS DID ATTEND HIM,
TEN THOUSAND BREWERS DID BEFRIEND HIM :
THESE BROUGHT HIM KISSING-CRUSTS, AND THOSE
BROUGHT HIM SMALL-BEER, BEFORE HE ROSE. 195
The Author raifes mountains feeming full,
But all the cry produces little wool:
So, if you fue a Beggar for a house,
And have a verdict, what d'ye gain? A Louse!
Homer, more modeft, if we fearch his Books,
Will fhew us that his Heroes all were Cooks;
How lov'd Patroclus with Achilles joins,
To quarter out the Ox, and spit the loins.
Oh could that Poet live! could he rehearse
Thy Journey, LISTER, in immortal verse!
MUSE, SING THE MAN THAT DID TO PARIS GO, THAT HE MIGHT TASTE THEIR SOUPS, AND
Oh, how would Homer praise their dancing Dogs, Their ftinking Cheese, and Fricafee of Frogs!
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