I ne'er saw a parasol handled
So like to a duchess's doing--
I ne'er saw a slighter foot sandal'd,
Or so fit to exhale in the shoeing--
Lovely thing!

Surprising!--one woman can dish us
So many rare sweets up together!
Tournure absolutely delicious--
Chip hat without flower or feather--
Well-gloved and enchantingly boddiced,
Her waist like the cup of a lily--
And an air, that, while daintily modest,
Repell'd both the saucy and silly--
Quite the thing!

For such a rare wonder you'll say, sir,
There's reason in tearing one's tether--
And, to see her again in Broadway, sir,
Who would not be lavish of leather!
I met her again, and as YOU know
I'm sage as old Voltaire at Ferney--
But I said a bad word--for my Juno
Look'd sweet on a sneaking attorney--
Horrid thing!

Away flies the dream I had nourish'd--
My castles like mockery fall, sir!
And, now, the fine airs that she flourish'd
Seem varnish and crockery all, sir!