Had wrought there in hours void of rest and of ease,
And yet, I assure you, her face glows with smiles,
While practicing poses the hours she beguiles.
But while I still watched her, a cloud thin as air,
Passed over the features that now seemed so fair;
With eyes on the mirror, I heard her exclaim,
“Oh! dear me! oh! dear me! I’ve lost it again.”
She takes a new bend—then cries, “That’s not it!”
Here, dear reader mine, she was seized with a fit
Of abdominal colic, which only did serve