A GENTLEWOMAN OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 15 A placid face, in which surprise For her e'en Time grew debonair. Had spared to touch the fair old face, The soft white hand that stroked her lace, Was comely as her youth was sage, And yet she once had been the rage;- Indeed, affirmed by one or two, Some spark at Bath (as sparks will do) Which Urban printed. I know she thought; I know she felt ; As of the Saxon; I know she played and sang, for yet Her tastes were not refined as ours; Her art was sampler-work design, Her luxury was elder-wine,— She loved that "purely." She was renowned, traditions say, For June conserves, for curds and whey, And ratafia; She knew, for sprains, what bands to choose, For freckles, and was learned in brews Yet studied little. She would read, On Sundays, "Pearson on the Creed," Though, as I think, she could not heed A GENTLEWOMAN OF THE OLD SCHOOL. Seeing she chose for her retreat The warm west-looking window-seat, Where, if you chanced to raise your feet. This, 'twixt ourselves. The dear old dame, Is scarcely stirring; Her plain-song piety preferred Pure life to precept. If she erred, She knew her faults. Her softest word If she had loved, or if she kept Some ancient memory green, or wept Over the shoulder-knot that slept I know not. Within her cuff-box, Only this I know, At sixty-five she'd still her beau, A lean French exile, lame and slow, Younger than she, well-born and bred. And daily dinners; C 17 Starving, in fact, 'twixt want and pride; He worshipped her, you may suppose. She gained him pupils, gave him clothes, Delighted in his dry bon-mots And cackling laughter; And when, at last, the long duet Of conversation and picquet Ceased with her death, of sheer regret Dear Madam Placid! Others knew Their loves are lost; but still we see Bloom yearly with the almond tree The Frenchman planted. THE BALLAD OF "BEAU BROCADE." 19 THE BALLAD OF "BEAU BROCADE." SE "Hark! I hear the sound of coaches!" EVENTEEN hundred and thirty-nine :- First great GEORGE was buried and gone; LONDON then, as the "Guides" aver, And people of rank, to correct their "tone," Those were the days of the War with Spain, WHITEFIELD preached to the colliers grim, WALPOLE talked of "a man and his price"; |