“Her ’prentice han’
She tried on man,
An’ then she made the lasses, oh!”
The latter, consequently, will come in for their share in these trivial, fond records. For, have not the poets loved especially to dress and undress them? And have not the nymphs been consenting? None have defied them, save
“Fair Rhodope, as story tells,
The bright, unearthly nymph who dwells
’Mid sunless gold and jewels hid,
The Lady of the Pyramid.”
Rhodope has been a snare to the versifiers; but I recognize in her a lady who loved home, and dressed as well when there as her more gadding sisters do only when abroad.
If Rhodope be the only maid who has puzzled the poets, Butler is the only poet who has seriously libelled the maids, and their mothers. See what the rude fellow says of ladies in their company suits and faces:—