However—sad as 'twas, no doubt,
That nymph so smart should go about,
With head unconscious of the place
It ought to fill in Infinite Space—
Yet all allowed that, of her kind,
A prettier show 'twas hard to find;
While of that doubtful genus, "dressy men,"
The male was thought a first-rate specimen.
Such Savans, too, as wisht to trace
The manners, habits, of this race—
To know what rank (if rank at all)
'Mong reasoning things to them should fall—
What sort of notions heaven imparts
To high-built heads and tight-laced hearts
And how far Soul, which, Plato says,
Abhors restraint, can act in stays—
Might now, if gifted with discerning,
Find opportunities of learning:
As these two creatures—from their pout
And frown, 'twas plain—had just fallen out;
And all their little thoughts, of course.
Were stirring in full fret and force;—
Like mites, through microscope espied,
A world of nothings magnified.
But mild the vent such beings seek,
The tempest of their souls to speak:
As Opera swains to fiddles sigh,
To fiddles fight, to fiddles die,
Even so this tender couple set
Their well-bred woes to a Duet.
WALTZ DUET.
HE.
Long as I waltzed with only thee,
Each blissful Wednesday that went by,
Nor stylish Stultz, nor neat Nugee
Adorned a youth so blest as I.
Oh! ah! ah! oh!
Those happy days are gone—heigho!
SHE.
Long as with thee I skimmed the ground,
Nor yet was scorned for Lady Jane,
No blither nymph tetotumed round
To Collinet's immortal strain.
Oh! ah! etc.
Those happy days are gone—heigho!
HE.
With Lady Jane now whirled about,
I know no bounds of time or breath;
And, should the charmer's head hold out,
My heart and heels are hers till death.
Oh! ah! etc.
Still round and round thro' life we'll go.
SHE.
To Lord Fitznoodle's eldest son,
A youth renowned for waistcoats smart,
I now have given (excuse the pun)
A vested interest in my heart.
Oh! ah! etc.
Still round and round with him I'll go.
HE.
What if by fond remembrance led
Again to wear our mutual chain.
For me thou cut'st Fitznoodle
dead,
And I levant from Lady Jane.
Oh! ah! etc.
Still round and round again we'll go.
SHE.
Tho' he the Noodle honors give,
And thine, dear youth, are not so high,
With thee in endless waltz I'd live,
With thee, to Weber's Stop—
Waltz, die!
Oh! ah! etc.
Thus round and round thro' life we'll go.
[Exeunt waltzing.