These patched and powdered Pantilese,
With all their grand punctilio—
Beneath the Limes!
Beneath the Limes, perchance you'll fret
For bygone times, and may regret
The manners of the time of Anne,
The graceful conduct of a fan,
And stately old-world etiquette!
The good old days are gone, and yet
You never saw, I'll freely bet,