Of knockers on its oaken door, it bore a double stock,
I took those knockers, and I struck duet of double knock,
And just as I was rounding off my rallantando din,
The door was gently opened and a lady cried "Come in!"
I must confess, I fluttered with a flick of some surprise,
To see a lady so petite, and with such piercing eyes,
An artificial bloom was on her cheek, and nose, and neck,
Her gown was of a quaint brocade in antique floral check.
By transmutating hand of time, and his assistant care,
The golden sheen to silver light was paling thro' her hair,