TO A GREEK AT "THE ORIENT."
At your dress I marvel mutely—
Green and white, with gold about;
Grandly gay, you absolutely,
Cut me out.
Like a lamp-shade is that nether
Garment, yet, without a doubt,
You look fine, and altogether
Cut me out.
I, dull Englishman, am neatly
Clothed in black and grey, without
Any colours. You completely
Cut me out.
She, whose smile is sweetly dimply,
Pretty, even though she pout,
Seems entranced. With her you simply
Cut me out.
She admires you, and she barely
Looks at me, a sombre lout.
Hang you, in that dress you fairly
Cut me out.
Gentle and Soothing Occupation for an Oarsman.—"Stroking an eight."
