Ours is so far-advanced an age ! Commodious villas! We boast high art, an Albert Hall, We have a thousand things, you see, And yet, how strange! Our "world,” to-day, Tried in the scale, would scarce outweigh Your Roman cronies; Walk in the Park-you'll seldom fail To find a Sybaris on the rail By Lydia's ponies, Or hap on Barrus, wigged and stayed, The great Gargilius, then, behold! Fair Neobule too! Is not One Hebrus here-from Aldershot? Be wise. There old Canidia sits; And look, dyspeptic, brave, and kind, Terentia's skirting; Here's Pyrrha, "golden-haired" at will Prig Damasippus, preaching still; Asterie flirting, Radiant, of course. We'll make her black,Ask her when Gyges' ship comes back. So with the rest. Who will may trace Behind the new each elder face Defined as clearly; Science proceeds, and man stands still; As yours was, Horace! You alone, TO "LYDIA LANGUISH." "Il me faut des émotions." BLANCHE AMORY. YOU ask me, Lydia, "whether I, You If you refuse my suit, shall die." (Now pray don't let this hurt you) Although the time be out of joint, I should not think a bodkin's point The sole resource of virtue; Nor shall I, though your mood endure, Attempt a final Water-cure Except against my wishes; For I respectfully decline To dignify the Serpentine, And make hors-d'œuvres for fishes; But, if you ask me whether I Composedly can go, Without a look, without a sigh, "You are assured," you sadly say (If in this most considerate way To treat my suit your will is), That I shall "quickly find as fair Some new Neæra's tangled hair- I cannot promise to be cold If smiles are kind as yours of old But, if you ask shall I prefer To you I honour so A somewhat visionary Her, I answer truly-No. You fear, you frankly add, "to find That altering Time estranges." To this I make response that we (As physiologists agree), Must have septennial changes; This is a thing beyond control, And it were best upon the whole To try and find out whether We could not, by some means, arrange So as to change together: But, had you asked me to allow That you could ever grow 137 Less amiable than you are now,— But-to be serious-if you care You outrage their affection ;— And when, arrived so far, you say Then, Lydia, then . . . I still shall stay, ... And firmly answer No. |