Now with a solemn pride,
Lord of the future's limitless expanse,
The Stoic stripling tolerates the dance
Weary, yet dignified.
Propping the mirror'd wall,
No joy of motion, no desire to please,
Thaws those high-collar'd Caryatides,
Inane, imperial.
Girls, with their collars too,
Their mannish maskings, and their unveil'd eyes,