"Woe to ye, men of ships and shops!
"Rulers of day-books and of waves!
"Quadrilled, on one side, into fops,
"And drilled, on t'other, into slaves!
"Ye, too, ye lovely victims, seen,
"Like pigeons, trussed for exhibition,
"With elbows, à la crapaudine,
"And feet, in—God knows what position;
"Hemmed in by watchful chaperons,
"Inspectors of your airs and graces,
"Who intercept all whispered tones,
"And read your telegraphic faces;
"Unable with the youth adored,
"In that grim cordon of Mammas,
"To interchange one tender word,
"Tho' whispered but in queue-de-chats.
"Ah did you know how blest we ranged,
"Ere vile Quadrille usurpt the fiddle—
"What looks in setting were exchanged,
"What tender words in down the middle;
"How many a couple, like the wind,
"Which nothing in its course controls,
Left time and chaperons far behind,
"And gave a loose to legs and souls;
How matrimony throve—ere stopt
"By this cold, silent, foot-coquetting—
"How charmingly one's partner propt
"The important question in poussetteing.
"While now, alas—no sly advances—
"No marriage hints—all goes on badly—
"'Twixt Parson Malthus and French Dances,
"We, girls, are at a discount sadly.
"Sir William Scott (now Baron Stowell)
"Declares not half so much is made
"By Licences—and he must know well—
"Since vile Quadrilling spoiled the trade."
She ceased—tears fell from every Miss—
She now had touched the true pathetic:—
One such authentic fact as this,
Is worth whole volumes theoretic.