 | May Fair |  |
Woe to the gay celibataire,
At whom are levelled Gr*v*lle's pair!
No more in single blessedness
He wines it at the Knightsbridge mess;
No more his tumbril stops the way
Where Fashion throngs to see Perlet;
He droops, neglects his tailor, dreams;
Talks pastoral, writes verse by reams;
Looks low in chintuft and moustache;
Thinks cards a bore, and hazard rash;
Cuts all his well-dressed friends, grows mulish—
In fact, plays to the life the foolish.
You'll see the hero on his rounds,
Although the dinner-bugle sounds;
Developing with double spine
The minnows of the Serpentine
And sullen, as if Earth forgot him,
Bespeaking lodgings at the bottom.
At length (for water spoils the figure)
He takes a fancy to the trigger,
Sits gravely down to make his will,
Feels, when 'tis done, he's living still;
Thinks marriage easier of digestion—
Dresses, drives out, and pops the question!
At whom are levelled Gr*v*lle's pair!
No more in single blessedness
He wines it at the Knightsbridge mess;
No more his tumbril stops the way
Where Fashion throngs to see Perlet;
40
Talks pastoral, writes verse by reams;
Looks low in chintuft and moustache;
Thinks cards a bore, and hazard rash;
Cuts all his well-dressed friends, grows mulish—
In fact, plays to the life the foolish.
You'll see the hero on his rounds,
Although the dinner-bugle sounds;
Developing with double spine
The minnows of the Serpentine
And sullen, as if Earth forgot him,
Bespeaking lodgings at the bottom.
At length (for water spoils the figure)
He takes a fancy to the trigger,
Sits gravely down to make his will,
Feels, when 'tis done, he's living still;
41
Dresses, drives out, and pops the question!
| May Fair | |