Beneath the gaslight’s brilliant glare

Beneath the gaslight’s brilliant glare The feast was spread with dainties rare. My whole was set with silver fine, And shining glass and sparkling wine. A wise professor, old and staid, Was talking to a chattering maid. In ancient lore she was not versed, She was my last, and he my first; While I across the table sat, Wishing I could enjoy her chat.