There was very little silk about the fetter,
And 'twere flattery to say your sway was sweet:
Nay, you made the light and airy shrine of beauty
A centre for the most exacting duty,
And the fealty of the family undoubting
Met with flouting,
As a tribute which was nothing but your due,
As they knew.
Your Papa is getting elderly and bulky,
And he loves you as the apple of his eye,