OLD coat, for some three or four seasons
We’ve been jolly comrades, but now
We part, old companion, forever;
To fate, and the fashion, I bow.
You’d look well enough at a dinner,
I’d wear you with pride at a ball;
But I’m dressing to-night for a wedding—
My own—and you’d not do at all.
You’ve too many wine-stains about you,
You’re scented too much with cigars,