As Art, as Life thy raiment brief is
(Except the train, of course)—and strong
Mamma's relief is.
In vulgar phrase, "Your mother knows
You're out," at length. Such triumphs too dear
Are sometimes purchased. I suppose
She fidgets you, dear.
"The Countess!—bow, child, to the Earl!—
Those terrible HYDE PARKES! Their posies
Look quite too vulgar; cut them, girl.