With easy style, true debonair,
Went strolling ‘mid the ladies fair,
The gayest of the gay!
The Spade went prinking round the lawn,
Miss Shears was on his arm!
The Hay-fork pitched about till dawn
Forgetful of the Farm!
The Fern-tubs frowned upon the scene,
The Lattice glared its grief;
The Bulbs, in pots, though quite serene,