But the heart within me yearns
For something done to stay the shame
Whereat gentle blood yet burns.
“Oh, young M.P.! canst move the House
With the Fashion fiend to fight,
That this crime no longer our women may stain
In all humanity’s sight?
“He prayeth best——” “Ah! I know the rest,”
Quoth that button-holed M.P.
“Damp Millinere, you are right, I fear.