George M. Baker

“ Through churchyards creeping with mournful song,
A group was gathered around a board
Heaped with all that wealth could afford,
Or taste could suggest: dishes costly and rare,
Fruits of all climes and all seasons, were there. ”

“ This simple story will be recognized by many throughout New England to whom the author has had the pleasure of reciting it. Frequent requests that he would place it in shape for preservation have emboldened him to issue it in its present dress. Painfully conscious of its defects as a literary work, he sends it forth in search of old acquaintances, trusting it may receive a share of that kindly favor bestowed upon it as it fell from his lips. ”

“ When all in a moment the tumult is stilled,
As he who presides with dignified grace
High raises his goblet, and stands in his place:—
“I give you, friends, no warrior’s name
Your hearts to thrill, your blood to flame ”