By Helen Avery Cone
The Puritan Spring Beauties stood freshly clad for church;
A thrush, white-breasted, o'er them sat singing on his perch.
"Happy be! for fair are ye!" the gentle singer told them;
But presently a buff-coat Bee came booming up to scold them.
"Vanity, oh, vanity!
Young maids, beware of vanity!"
Grumbled out the buff-coat Bee,
Half parson-like, half soldierly.
The sweet-faced maidens trembled, with pretty, pinky blushes,
Convinced that it was wicked to listen to the thrushes;
And when that shady afternoon, I chanced that way to pass,
They hung their little bonnets down and looked into the grass.
All because the buff-coat Bee
Lectured them so solemnly—
"Vanity, oh, vanity!
Young maids, beware of vanity!"
GOING UP AND COMING DOWN
By Mary F. Tucker
This is a simple song, 'tis true—
My songs are never over-nice,—
And yet I'll try and scatter through
A little pinch of good advice.
Then listen, pompous friend, and learn
To never boast of much renown,
For fortune's wheel is on the turn,
And some go up and some come down.
I know a vast amount of stocks,
A vast amount of pride insures;
But Fate has picked so many locks
I wouldn't like to warrant yours.
Remember, then, and never spurn
The one whose hand is hard and brown,
For he is likely to go up,
And you are likely to come down.
Another thing you will agree,
(The truth may be as well confessed)
That "Codfish Aristocracy"
Is but a scaly thing at best.
And Madame in her robe of lace,
And Bridget in her faded gown,
Both represent a goodly race,
From father Adam handed down.
Life is uncertain—full of change;
Little we have that will endure;
And 't were a doctrine new and strange
That places high are most secure;
And if the fickle goddess smile,
Yielding the scepter and the crown,
'Tis only for a little while,
Then B. goes up and A. comes down.