How that dread dirge the ambient Summer fills
Savage and shrill! Smart frocks, soft snowy frills,
Long trains which dancing Beauty deftly steers.
Through waltzes wild or devious quadrilles,—
All vanish; bosoms white, beset with fears;
Beat flight as that fell strain falls harsh on Beauty's ears.
And June yet waves above them her green leaves,
Dewy with Springtide's night-drops as they pass
Grieving,—if aught that's modish ever grieves,—
Over the unreturning chance. Alas!