Out on thee, cruel Parasol,
Of lace, the pearl, and satin;
And glinting like a fairy doll
With many a burnished patin;
Cool, charming as the dainty dame
Who twirls thy coromandel;
Thou flauntest proudly since thy name,
Like hers, can boast its handle!
The cynosure of wondering beaux,
I boast a soul above thee;