Oh! then conceive the ills that mock
The well-dress'd London sinner,
Invited just at seven o'clock
To join a "daylight dinner."
The sun, no trees the eye to shade,
Glares full into the windows,
And scorches widow, wife, and maid
Just as it does the Hindoos;
One's shoes look brown, one's black looks grey,
One's legs if thin, look thinner;