“Through thee in the season of spring, oh pride of the modern creation!!!
Beauty sets off by night each grace of her whirligig ankle,
When to the music of harps in dulcet symphonies sounding,
She waltzes with twinkling twirl, and butterfly bucks hover round her;
Thee she hails as a friend, while her pumps, in the pride of their polish,
Illumine the ball-room floor like the slippers of famed Cinderella,—
In Brighton thy name is known, and waxeth important at Cheltenham;
Travels per coach to Bath, that exceedingly beautiful city;
Thence crossing the channel to Wales, it stirs up attention at Swansea;
Or flees with the speed of a dove o’er the mountainous ridges of Snowden,