Even strict Apthorp will admit that false notes are a rare exception;
But what avail such wond’rous play, when to the Hall for friend’s inspection
Each lady takes some little thing—
New-purchased pocket-book, or ring—
Or in loud voice the matrons sing the dangers of small-pox infection.
To Mendelssohn’s Scotch Symphony I’ve heard of Johnny’s scarlet fever;
Bizet’s Arlesienne Suites I link with Kate’s sore throat that wouldn’t leave her;
Oft to Wagnerian strains I’ve heard eager dispute of seal and beaver,
To clasp fair Mabel’s dainty throat,
Or make for Madge a winter coat,