616 Pall-Mall Poetry < [JUNE, 



So it continued nearly through the season 



Of (But we will not mention dates they look 



So like a clog ; besides, there's little reason 

 In speaking, as it were, by bell and book) 



'Till near its close I think there is no treason ; 

 When, sitting calmly in some shady nook, 



To wish it earlier over, there arrived 



An invite j shewing that it still survived. 



So common an affair, so lightly reckoned, 



And only read to be refused, the change 

 That overcame her as she gave a second 



Glance at the name, her father fancied strange : 

 For he was with her, and with quickness beckoned 



Her maid for salts, to help her to arrange 

 The sudden tremor, and restore the shattered 

 Tranquillity the card had somewhat battered. 



This soon went off, and in its place a quick 



And agitated heaving of the breast 

 A hurried word or so a tone less thick, 



Yet still almost inaudible, expressed 

 A slow but sure recovery. She was sick, 



And therefore might be easily distressed. 

 An invalid, even when her pride preserves 

 Some form, has easily excited nerves. 



Whatever was the cause that made her feel 



So awkwardly, so strangely sentimental, 

 Just at the juncture she had broke the seal, 



It was a sharp one not an accidental 

 Affair, which any moment may reveal 



But deep and sad. Yet with an oriental 

 Calmness of style, and hasty exclamation 

 About the heat, she read the invitation. 



She read, and she accepted it, without 



The slightest hesitation or remark. 

 Her father guessed not why, but had his doubt 



Of course because she left him in the dark. 

 She felt I'm told it was a bitter bout 



But called, while wending homeward from the Park, 

 On Madame Frille, marchande de monde de Paris, 

 To fix the sort of flounce her frock should carry. 



It grieves me I can hardly recollect 



The fashion she bespoke. There was a stay, 



In such affairs I wish to be correct 

 A robe de satin she was young and gay 



Garnie de blond et small things to connect 

 De marabous ; une coiffeur ornee 



Depis de diamans, of which I care not 



To vaunt to those who fancy not and wear not. 



A robe de tulle, couleur de rose, garnie 



D'un bouffant defeuillages de satin, failed 

 To please her fancy as it should for she 



(At times such sort of foolishness prevailed 

 To some extent) was whimsical in the 



Arrangements of her dress. She somewhat railed 

 When this was pointed out, and seemed to mock 

 The lady as she eulogized the frock. 



