There's nothing with him we'll compare,
And none with us shall e'er impair
The fame of our friend Godey.
If puzzled in our crochet task,
Our patterns poor as actor's mask,
We need but turn the leaves, and ask
Some aid from our friend Godey.
His tales are moral, chaste, and true,
His fashion plates all rich and new;
Receipts for goodies, not a few,