 | Young Arthur |  |
But “what is what!” how coarse the phrase!
In this trim golden age of taste;
When soft Refinement beams her rays,
And pretty poesy is grac'd
By such a train of trifles sweet!
Tripping with “many twinkling feet.”
In this trim golden age of taste;
When soft Refinement beams her rays,
And pretty poesy is grac'd
By such a train of trifles sweet!
Tripping with “many twinkling feet.”
| Young Arthur | |