Oh, Amaryllis, in the shade
Of Rotten Row, with ribbons, feather,
And wide-spread brim your hat is made!
Down by the sea, in windy weather,
A sailor hat,
So small and flat,
Is far more natty altogether.
Down by, or on, the waves where swim
The tribes which poets christen "finny,"
This hat might not, with narrow brim,