Recollections of pink-glowing cheeks, and a girl
Whose fun-loving spell set the house in a whirl,
As her laughter ran riot and touched everywhere,
Till Amanda, the chaperon, with dignified air
And a fine, arching brow, was compelled to unbend
And to follow the frivolous, frolicsome trend
Of a something she knew not—she wasn’t half sure
If she laughed with Louisa or just at her laughter.
But ’tis needless to point all their feminine graces,
Or with blund’ring endeavor to profile their faces,