1831.] Pall-Mail Poetry. 617 



Now this, for such a temper, and a heart 

 So sweetly kind, that Methodists might swear 



(Except when crossed) its best and brightest part 

 Was mild contentment gently lingering there, 



Appeared most odd. La Marchande gave a start, 

 Yet bowed her out with her accustomed air ; 



But when the door was closed, though it might trench 



Upon her manners, swore aloud in French. 



But dressed she was, and whether well or ill, 



Tis of no consequence. The carriage rolled 

 Along the streets ; lame, fracture, bruise, or kill, 



No matter, so it flew. I have been told 

 In confidence and 'tis a secret still 



One woman only she was deaf and old 

 Was overturned, which, though a trifling matter, 

 Was kept quite close, because the papers chatter. 



'Twould be a work of supererogation 



To tell you how at last the carriage gained 

 The gaping door, amidst the concentration 



Of wheels and whips. You would, too, have complained 

 Of my discretion, had I made narration 



Of such known facts. Thus far, then, they attained, 

 With several hats of most correct expansion, 

 The entrance-hall of Lady Racket's mansion. 



Their names were called, and as they should the ladies 

 Drew back their shoulders as they entered in : 



Each gentleman there but a trifling shade is 

 Between the two in their attempts to win 



Brushed up his flattened ringlets, and arrayed his 

 Visage in smiles, the better to begin ; 



Whilst several aged dames and dowagers 



Sailed, with indifference, up the groaning stairs. 



The party was a very brilliant one ; the guests 

 Were numerous and select. But two were there 



(The canker-worm the finest fruit infests) 

 From Tavistock, and one from Bedford Square ; 



A few dull Commoners, whose wealth attests 



Their worth j some Honourables, with none to spare, 



Increased the crowd ; and here and there a wit 



The last were scarce, and watched to make a hit. 



A pair of Blues my lady was a Blue 



Were also there, who scribbled for the town, 

 Made love chime in with dove, true rhyme with you, 



With much discernment and some small renown. 

 These, with a critic, and a youth or two 



Whose next edition could not fail to crown 

 Them as the spirits of the age, decided 

 On most things as they should, and some derided. 



To paint the crowd, however, one by one, 



My space forbids ; and so I shan't describe 

 Dozens, on whose time-honoured heads the sun 



Of Fashion always shone. A gayer tribe 

 Had seldom met, and many who had run 



(A taste for which .we easily imbibe) 

 In debt to shew it, or by chance away 

 With a friend's wife, asserted what I say. 

 M.M. New Series. VOL. XI. No. 66. 4 K 



