Here you will find the Poem Ad Ministram of poet William Makepeace Thackeray
Dear Lucy, you know what my wish is, - I hate all your Frenchified fuss: Your silly entrées and made dishes Were never intended for us. No footman in lace and in ruffles Need dangle behind my arm-chair; And never mind seeking for truffles, Although they be ever so rare. But a plain leg of mutton, my Lucy, I pr'ythee get ready at three: Have it smoking, and tender, and juicy, And what better meat can here be? And when it has feasted the master, 'Twill amply suffice for the maid; Meanwhile I will smoke my canaster, And tipple my ale in the shade.
