Their grim disappointment to drown.
Good-bye to the Season—but truly,
To all its chief items go through
Would lengthen our rhymes so unduly,
We dare not the subject pursue;
Nor dwell on those purse-proud pretenders,
Who, ever so ill at their ease,
Give dinners, whose shoddyish splendours
Are far too oppressive to please,
And who, wheresoever we find them—