Classic Poem

You would not carve the hare: it was not basted,
So you declared: the mullet went untasted:
The boar was more than high — our senses proved it —
You called it " over-fresh," and then removed it.
" Uneatable and raw," you kept repeating;
In proof whereof you gave your cook a beating.
A vain excuse; we're safe beyond all question.
A meal of nothing gives no indigestion.