The bayberry aromatic, Henry Augustin Beers (1847 MISS NANCY'S GOWN IN days when George the Third was King And ruled the Old Dominion, And Law and Fashion owned the sway Of Parliament's opinion, A good ship brought across the sea,- Miss Nancy's gown from London town, The plaited waist from neck to belt By skilful hands this wondrous gown In blooming beauty grew, Wing Tee Wee 1803 And from this bower of delight Miss Nancy reigned a Queen, Forgot its fierce debate O'er rights of Crown, when Nancy's gown Through jocund reel, or measured tread Of stately minuet, Like fairy vision shone the bloom Of rose and violet, As, hand in hand with Washington, The hero of the day, The smiling face and nymph-like grace Of Nancy led the way! A century, since that gay time Has passed, and Nancy long has slept Yet on the brocade velvet gown The rose and violet Are blooming bright as on the night She danced the minuet! Zitella Cocke [1847 WING TEE WEE OH, Wing Tee Wee Was a sweet Chinee, And she lived in the town of Tac. Her eyes were blue, And her curling cue Hung dangling down her back; And she fell in love with gay Win Sil When he wrote his love on a laundry bill. And oh, Tim Told Was a pirate bold, And he sailed in a Chinese junk” And he loved, ah me! Sweet Wing Tee Wee, But his valiant heart had sunk; So he drowned his blues in fickle fizz, So bold Tim Told Showed all his gold To the maid in the town of Tac, Eloped to sea, And nevermore came back; For in far Chinee the maids are fair, And the maids are false, as everywhere. MY GRANDMOTHER'S TURKEY-TAIL FAN Ir owned not a color that vanity dons Or slender wits choose for display; Its beautiful tint was a delicate bronze, A brown softly blended with gray. From her waist to her chin, spreading out without break, 'Twas built on a generous plan: The pride of the forest was slaughtered to make For common occasions it never was meant: 'Twas famed far and wide through the whole country side, From Beersheba c'en unto Dan; And often at meeting with envy 'twas eyed, Camp-meetings, indeed, were its chiefest delight. It beckoned backsliders to re-seek the right, 1805 A Moral in Sevres It always beat time when the choir went wrong, Old Hundred, I know, was its favorite song- A fig for the fans that are made nowadays, A different thing is the fan that I praise, Yet it scorned not the good things of earth. When in at the doorway had entered serene. Tradition relates of it wonderful tales. Though shorn of its glory, e'en now it exhales Its primeval grace, if you like, you can trace: A MORAL IN SEVRES UPON my mantel-piece they stand, The china Shepherdess is fair, The Shepherd's face denotes a heart Alas, they stand so far apart! And yet, perhaps, if they were moved, Nor would they still have smiled so gay. His hand the Shepherd might have kissed But on my mantel-piece they stand, He throws a kiss with graceful hand, She glances back with bashful eyes. ON THE FLY-LEAF OF A BOOK OF OLD PLAYS AT Cato's Head in Russell Street Before her on the street below, While, filling many a Sedan chair Swift, Addison, and Pope, mayhap They sauntered slowly past her, For beau nor wit had she a look; And one stray thread of golden hair, Was stitched within this volume, where |