NOT AT HOME.
I
Not at home! not at home! close my curtain again,
Go and send the intruders away;
They may knock if they will, but 'tis labour in vain,
For I am not made up for the day.
Though my ball was the best of all possible balls,
Though I graced my saloon like a Queen;
I've a head-ache to-day, so if any one calls,
“Not at home!” I am not to be seen.
II
Not at home! not at home! bring strong coffee at two,
But now leave me to doze in the dark;
I'm too pale for my pink! I'm too brown for my blue,
I'm too sick for my drive in the park.
If the man whose attentions are pointed should call,
(Eliza, you know who I mean,)
Oh! say, when he knocks, I'm knock'd up by my ball,
“Not at home!” I am not to be seen.
III
Not at home to Sir John, not at home to the Count,
Not at home till my ringlets are curl'd;
Should the Jeweller call with his little account,
Not at home! not at home for the world!
I, at midnight must shine at three splendid “at homes,”
Then adieu to my morning chagrin,
Close my curtain again, for till candle-light comes,
“Not at home!” I am not to be seen.
