With its weddings and divorces, with its dinners and debates;
Gone are all its vapid pleasures, all its easy charities,
Gone its causes célèbres and scandals, gone its tears and tragedies.
Weary legislators envy still more weary chaperōns;—
Much they know the truth who deem them of Society the drones;—
All the maidens are ennuyées, vow they "can't do anymore,"
All the gilded youth are yawning—everything's a horrid bore.
Hearken then, ye youths and maidens, favoured Children of the West,
East and South and North are children, who are hungering for rest.
They have never seen the country, never heard the streamlet flow: