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! His "long-bow" hunting tales of old Are now but duller; Fair Neobule too! Is not One Hebrus here from Aldershot? Aha, you colour ! Be wise. There old Canidia sits; No doubt she's tearing you to bits. And look, dyspeptic, brave, and kind, Comes dear Mæcenas, half behind 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 Defined as clearly; Science proceeds, and man stands still; As cultured (nearly), As yours was, Horace! You alone, ΤΟ "LYDIA LANGUISH." "Il me faut des émotions." YOU ask me, Lydia, BLANCHE AMORY. "whether I, 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 And make hors-d'œuvres for fishes; But, if you ask me whether I Composedly can go, "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 On lips of later beauties; 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 This not-to-be-avoided change So as to change together: But, had you asked me to allow Less amiable than you are now, - But-to be serious if you care Enforced by all the liquid grief And when, arrived so far, you say Then, Lydia, then ... I still shall stay, |