When I Saw The Learned Gastronomer – or – When My Dad Is Taken Out To Eat

When I saw the learn’d gastronomer,

When the herbs, the spices, were ranged in mills before me,

When I was shown the menus and ingredients, to combine, elide or measure them,

When I standing observed the gastronomer where he decocted with much applause in the decoction-room,

How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,

Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,

In the musty Lahore night-air, and from time to time,

Look’d with perfect envy at the chowkidar with his daal-chawal.

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