 | Parliamentary Letters, and Other Poems |  |
Dear Bess, when I left you, I promised to write
An account of our doings each Saturday night;
And beginning with Monday, by sketches diurnal,
To give my epistles the form of a journal;
But spare me, dear sister, for here 'tis my fate
To be walking so early, and dancing so late;
Here's so much to be done, and so much to be said,
So much work for the heels (not to mention the head),
You must only expect an occasional scrawl,
And think you're well off to be noticed at all.
An account of our doings each Saturday night;
And beginning with Monday, by sketches diurnal,
To give my epistles the form of a journal;
But spare me, dear sister, for here 'tis my fate
To be walking so early, and dancing so late;
Here's so much to be done, and so much to be said,
So much work for the heels (not to mention the head),
You must only expect an occasional scrawl,
And think you're well off to be noticed at all.
| Parliamentary Letters, and Other Poems | |