The fair Flora looked up with a pitiful air,
And answered quite promptly, “Why, Harry, mon cher,
I should like above all things to go with you there;
But really and truly, I’ve nothing to wear.”
“Nothing to wear? Go just as you are:
Wear the dress you have on, and you’ll be by far,
I engage, the most bright and particular star
On the Stuckup horizon.” I stopped, for her eye,
Notwithstanding this delicate onset of flattery,
Opened on me at once a most terrible battery