With a very deep sense of the strictest propriety;
Such a relative wanting, she feared, so she said,
Etiquette must prevent her from offering a bed;
But the night was so fine—just the thing for a ride—
Must they go? Well, good-bye,—and here once more she sighed;
Then a last parting smile on the suitor she threw,
And thus, having “let him down easy,” withdrew,
While the lover rode home with an indistinct notion
That somehow he’d not taken much by his motion.
Young Lord Dandelion,