Classic Poem

At length the Board, in loose disjointed Chat,
Descanted, some on this Thing, some on that;
Some, over each Orac'lous Glass, fore-doom
The Fate of Realms, and Conquests yet to come;
What Lawrels Marlbro ' next shall reap, decree,
And swifter than His Arms, give Victory
At the next Bottle, all their Schemes they cease,
Content at last to leave the World in Peace.
'Till having drown'd their Reason, they think fit
Railing at Men of Sense, to show their Wit;
Compare De Foe 's Burlesque with Dryden 's Satyr,
And Butler with the Lutrin 's dull Translator,
Decry'd each past, to raise each present Writer,
Damn'd the Plain-dealer , and admir'd the Biter .

These Censures o'er, to different Subjects next,
'Till rallying all, the Feast became the Text;
So to mine Host, the greatest Jest, they past,
And the Fool Treater grew the Treat at last.
Thus having eaten, drunk, laught, at his Cost,
To the next Day's Repentance, as they boast,
They left their senseless, treating, drunken Host.

Soft be his Slumbers! But may this suffice
Our Friends the Wits and Poets to advise,
(Tho' Dinners oft they want and Suppers too)
Rather to starve, as they are us'd to do,
Than dine with Fools, that on their Guests will force
Mixt Wine, mixt Company, and mixt Discourse:
Since not much Wine, much Company, much Food,
Make Entertainments please us as they shou'd;
But 'tis of each, the Little , and the Good .