TO A MODEL YOUNG LADY.
[It is reported that it is a common custom in Paris, amongst ladies of position, to pay for their dresses by wearing them in public, and letting it be known from whom they obtained them.]
My dear, I like your pretty dress,
It suits your figure to a T.
I'm free to own that I confess,
It's just the kind of dress for me.
Yet will you kindly tell me, dear,
Not merely was the costume made for
Yourself alone—but is it clear
And certain that your dress is paid for?
Mistake me not. I do not dread
That you'll think fit to run away
And leave the bill unpaid. Instead,
I fear that you will never pay,
Because no bill will ever come;
And since when you decide to toddle
Abroad, you'll go amidst a hum
Of praise for Madame's lovely Model
Oh! promise me that when I read
My paper (as I often do),
I shall not with remorseless speed
See endless pars in praise of you,
Or rather of the dress you wore,
For though, maybe, no harm or hurt is meant,
Remember, dearest, I implore,
I won't be fond of an advertisement!