To experience the true regeneration.
One’s own dress, too—one’s manner, what one’s doing
And saying, all assist to one’s renewing.
I love to see, in these their fitting places,
The bows, the forms, and all you call grimaces.
I heartily could wish we’d kept some more of them,
However much we talk about the bore of them.
Fact is, your awkward parvenus are shy at it,
Afraid to look like waiters if they try at it.
’Tis sad to what democracy is leading—