Book XII, Epigram 48: In Lautum Invitatorem

If Brawn and Mushrooms thou servst up as vile,
As though I wish'd them not, know tis my will.
If thou conceiv'st me wealthy, and wouldst bee
My Heir for five bare Oysters, farwel thee.
But yet thy supper's rich, most rich, yet there
To day, to morrow, streight nought will appeare,
That thy unhappy Maide's base broom know may,
Or Dog, or house of Office by the way.
Of Bables, Hares, and Sow's paps this the end,
A pale sulpherous look, and gowty friend.
Domitian's Feast's not so much worth to me,
Nor Jove's, nor can the high Priest's junckets bee.
Upon this score should Jove bring Nectar here,
It were as dead Wine, or Crab-vineger.
Some other guests go seek Sir to your meat,
Whom the vast kingdoms of thy chear may cheat.
My friend to some short Steaks may me invite,
I like that Supper which I can requite.