The Ingoldsby Lyrics :: :: University of Virginia Library

Oh! we're a' nodding, nid-nid-nodding,
Oh! we're a' nodding at our house to-day;
There's my wife and my daughter,
My sister and my mother,
They're a' deck'd out in plumes,
And they're nodding at each other,
For the Birthday's come,
And her Majesty the Queen
Holds a Drawing Room, and all of us
Are anxious to be seen;
And we're a' nodding, nid-nid-nodding,
Oh! we're a' nodding at our house to-day.

There's plump Mrs. Jukes,
From Great St. Helen's Place,
Has got a dress of Llama, richly
‘Trimm'd with Urling's lace.’
Miss Jones has got a ‘Colonnade
Dress,’ ending in a flounce,
Superbly trimm'd with silver spangles,
Half-a-crown an ounce!
And they're both nodding, nid-nid-nodding,
Oh! they're both nodding at our house to-day.

231

Lady Sims has got a ‘white tulle dress’
Adorn'd with ‘flowers and blonde,’
Above a ‘satin petticoat’
‘With sleeves to correspond,’
‘A coronet of feathers, with
Blonde lappets,’ on her head,
And she looks just like a shuttlecock
Upon a feather bed!
And she's nodding, nid-nid-nodding,
Oh! she's nodding at our house to-day.

Mrs. Snooks has got a robe,
‘Fitted nicely to her shape,’
With charming ‘silver sprigs,’ all
‘Embroider'd on white crape;’
Sally Wilkins sports a train,
All so gorgeous to behold,
Of ‘vapeur terre velvet,’ and
‘Embroider'd round with gold;’
And they're nodding, nid-nid-nodding,
Oh! they too are nodding at our house to-day.

There's Sir Claudius, with his chain
Twisted twice about his throat,
And very odd it looks upon
A Colonel's scarlet coat;

232

There's my Lord Mayor, Key,
With his collar, but no gown,
His sword has got between his legs,
Oh, dear! he'll tumble down!
For he's nodding, nid-nid-nodding,
Oh! he too is nodding at our house to-day.

Come, they're all off at last
To St. James's, in their carriages,
I hope they won't come back again
To our house to-day;
For my head's completely bothered with
‘Presentations,’ ‘Court,’ and ‘Marriages,’
I'm sure I cannot understand
One half of what they say!
For they call it ‘Coming out,’
When I thought 'twas ‘Going in,’
And they talk of ‘Lamas,’ ‘Tulle,’ and ‘Toque,’
‘Brocade,’ and ‘Pelerine;’
Of ‘Blonde, Drap à la Sévigné,’
‘Mantillas,’ and ‘Manteaus,’
And ‘garnitures of rich Chenille,’
And ‘Slips couleur de rose;’
And we're all bother'd, both-both-bother'd,
Oh! we're all bother'd at our house to-day.

233

Now, what's the ‘couleur immortelle,’
I'm sure I cannot guess,
Though I dare say there'll be plenty at
The Opera to-night,
With ‘corsages trimm'd à la cour,’
And ‘Cherry tissue dress,’
And ‘Beret sleeves, with blond sabets,’
And ‘vert pomme, over white;’
There's Polly Sprigs, dress'd à la Grecque,
With ‘grenat velvet train’
And ‘epaulettes,’ will never speak
To Peter Dobbs again;
While Sally Maggs, in satin ‘torsad,’
Will not give a nod
To Mister Perkins, in the pit,
Who thinks it very odd;
For he'll keep nodding, nid-nid-nodding,
Oh! he'll keep nodding at the Opera to-night.

I'm sure I shall be very glad
When once they're all undrest,
And their ‘Pomeran velours épinglé
Trains' are stow'd away;
These ‘ruches,’ ‘manches,’ ‘slips,’ and ‘toques,’
Have rather broke my rest;

234

For though they're all ‘so cheap,’ I doubt
There'll be a deal to pay.
But my wife says “No!
We can't always stay at home,
And we must do as Romans do
Whenever we're at Rome!”
And her head keeps nodding, nid-nid-nodding,
Oh! her head keeps nodding at me, till she has her way.