Classic Poem

Smart sends his compliments and pray'rs,
Health and long life to Dr Nares—
But the chief business of the card
Is “come to dinner with the bard,”
Who makes a mod'rate share of wit
Put on the pot, and turn the spit.
Tis said the Indians teach their sons
The use of bows instead of guns,
And, ere the striplings dare to dine,
They shoot their victuals off a pine.
The Public is as kind to me,
As to his child a Cherokee;
And if I chance to hit my aim,
I chuse to feast upon the game;
For panegyric or abuse
Shall make the quill procure the goose;
With apple-sauce and Durham mustard
And codling pye o'er-laid with custard.
Pray please to signify with this
My love to Madam, Bob, and Miss,
Likewise to nurse and little Poll,
Whose praise so justly you extoll.
P.S.
I have (don't think it a chimæra)
Some good sound port and right Madeira.