Which tied my tongue to silence. Time passed on.
Green spring, and flowery summer, autumn brown.
And frosty winter came,—and went and came,
And still through all the seasons of two years,
In park and city, yea at parties—balls—
The hat was worn and borne. Then folks grew wild
With curiosity, and whispers rose,
And questions passed about—how one so trim
In coats, boots, ties, gloves, trousers, could insconce
His caput in a covering so vile.