AT LAST.
At last the sky is actually blue.
Say not "dull, hazy, cloudy, overcast,"
O weather prophets, "fine" alone is true
At last.
At last, as June is finishing, the Row
Looks bright and gay. The difference is vast;
The sunlit grass, the rhododendrons glow
At last.
At last my topper flies not in the gale,
I gazing on its ruin quite aghast,
Nor gets all spotted after rain or hail,
At last.
At last it rests serenely on my brow,
As firm as colours nailed to any mast;
In fact it's somewhat hot and heavy now,
At last.
At last you sport your thinnest frocks, fair maid,
Sweet Chloe, Phyllis, Pyrrha, prim or fast.
Now Amaryllis dallies in the shade
At last.
At last Neæra's hair is undisturbed,
Not out of curl from damp, nor by the blast
In tangles blown. She smiles quite unperturbed
At last.
At last. But soon the rain, the fog, the haze
May spoil light frocks that now sweep gaily past.
For tempora mutantur; such fine days
Can't last.
Travelling Motto at Holiday Time.—"Too many Cooks (tourists) spoil the Continent."
