 | City Poems |  |
“As yellow as a guinea. Rich, she says;
His father died abroad. He is so mad,
I verily believe, to please a whim,
He'd deck her out in richest cloth of gold,
And slipper her with silver.”
His father died abroad. He is so mad,
I verily believe, to please a whim,
He'd deck her out in richest cloth of gold,
161
“I only hope
That all may prove as pleasant as it seems.
I wish I were among them standing up,
To glide off to the music.—Something stirs!”
That all may prove as pleasant as it seems.
I wish I were among them standing up,
To glide off to the music.—Something stirs!”
| City Poems | |