All Regent-Street’s soul is a-flame.
The Row is a wilderness utter,
The Livery Stables look sad,
The Cab-drivers mournfully mutter,
And Materfamilias goes mad.
Farewell to the Season! How dingy
A pall seems this close premature.
The shirkers, the stumped, and the stingy
May welcome the change to be sure;
But votaries of Commerce and Cupid,