Classic Poem

Tho' the Muse had deny'd me so often before,
I ventur'd this Day to invoke her once more.
She ask'd what I wanted; I said, with Delight,
Your Lordship had promis'd to sup here To-night;
That on an occasion so much to my Honour,
I hop'd she'd excuse me for calling upon her.
?To this she reply'd, with Disdain in her Looks:
If that be the Case, go summon your Cooks.
I told her in Answer, How little you eat;
That in vain I should hope to regale you with Meat;
That she knew, Wit and Humour to you were a Feast,
Who had, tho' no Stomach , an excellent Taste .
?This calm'd her Resentment; she paus'd for a while—
Then the Goddess, propitious, reply'd with a Smile:
If with Humour and Wit you would have him delighted,
What need I be call'd?—Let the Dean be invited.
The Bus'ness is done, if with him you prevail;
For a BOYLE, and a SWIFT, will each other regale.