Per Aspera ad Astra
A canvas-back duck, rarely roasted, between us,
A bottle of Chambertin, worthy of praise—
Less noble a wine at our age would bemean us—
A salad of celery en mayonnaise,
With the oysters we’ve eaten, fresh, plump, and delicious,
Naught left of them now but a dream and the shells;
No better souper e’en Lucullus could wish us—
Why, even our waiter regards us as swells.
Your dress is a marvel, your jewels show finely,
Your friends in the circle all envied your box;
You say Lilli Lehman sang quite too divinely—
I know I can’t lose on that last deal in stocks.
Without waits our footman to call for our carriage—
Gad, how he must hate us, out there in the cold!—
We rode in a hack on the day of our marriage,
Number two forty-six—I was rolling in gold,
For I’d quite fifty dollars; and don’t you remember
We drove down to Taylor’s, a long cherished dream:
How grandly I ordered—just think, in December!—
Some cake, and two plates of vanilla ice-cream.
And how we enjoyed it! Your glance was the proudest
Among the proud beauties, your face the most fair;
I’m rather afraid, too, your laugh was the loudest;
I know we shocked every one—we didn’t care.
Now we’d care a great deal—with two sons at college,
And daughters just out, whose sneers make you wince,
We’ve tasted the fruit of Society’s knowledge—
I don’t think we’ve quite enjoyed anything since.
All through, dear? Now, don’t wipe your mouth with the doily!
They’re really not careful at all with their wine;
It wasn’t half warmed—the salad was oily—
And I don’t think the duck was remarkably fine.