The Madisonian. [volume] (Washington City [i.e. Washington, D.C.]) 1837-1845, 1841-02-02
poetfeal.
OUR BALL.


Comment c'est lui Z que je 10 regards encore =
es' que fannent II est bien change; nest ce pas
mon papa P-LEs PREMIEas AMoURs
fou'lI come 10 osr ball ;-since we parted,
I've thought OF you more than III say
Indeed was half broken hearted
For week, when they took You away
Fond fancy brought back to my slumbers
Our walks on the Ness and the Den,
And echoed the musical numbers
Which you used 10 sing to me then.
know the romance, since it's over,
'Twere idle, or worse, TO recall -
know you're terrible rover
But, Clarence, you'll come to our Ball
It's only year since at College,
You put on your cap and your gown;
But, Clarence, you've grown out Of knowledge,
And changed from the spur TO the crown
The voice that was best when il faltered
Is fuller and frmer in tone
And the smile that should never have altered
Dear Clarence lit is not your own
Your cravai was badly selected
Your coat don't become you al all
And why is your hair neglected
You must have it cured for our Ball
I've often been out upon Haldon
To look for coyey with Pup;
I've often been over to Shadon,
To see how your boat is laid up
In spite Of the terrors Of Aunty,
I've ridden the filly you broke
And I've studied your sweet little Dante
In the shade of your favorite oak
When sat in July to Sir Lawrence,
sat in your love Of a shawl
And I'll wear what you brought me from Florence,
Perhaps, if you'll come to our Ball.
You'll find us all changed since you vanished;
We've set up National School;
And waltzing is utterly banished;
And Ellen has married fool
The Major is going to travel
Miss Hyacnh threatens a rout;
The walk is laid down with fresh gravel;
Papa is laid up with the govt
And Jane has gone on with her easels,
And Anne has gone of with Sir Paul.
And Fanny is sick with the measles
And III tell youthe rest at the Ball.
You'll meet all your beauties the Lily
And the Fairy of Willowbrook Farm,
And Lucy who made me so silly
AT Dawlish, by taking your arm;
Miss Manners who always abused you
For talking SO much about Hook
And her sister who often amused you,
BY raving Of rebels and Rock
And something which surely would answer
An heress quite fresh from Bengal
So, though you were seldom dancer,
You'll dance, just for once, at our Ball.
But out on the world from the flowers
II shuts out the sunshine Of truth
II blights the green leaves in the bowers,
II makes an old age of our youth
And the flow Of your feeling once in it,
Like a,streamlet beginning to freeze,
Though 1t cannot turn ice in a minute,
Grows harder by sudden degrees.
Time treads DER the graves of affection;
Sweet honey is turned into gall;
Perhaps you have recollection
That ever you danced at our Ball.
You once could be pleased with our ballads F.
To-day you have critical ears;
You once could be charmed with our Salads
Alas you've been dining with Peers;
You tIifed and firted with many;
You've forgotten the when and the how;
There was one you liked better than any;
Perhaps you've forgotten her now
But of those you remember most newly,
Of those WHO delight or enthral,
None love you quarter so truly
As some you will find at our Ball
They tell me you've many who fattcr
Because of your wit and your song,
They tell me (and what does it matter y
You liked to be praised by the throng:
They tell me YOU re Swallowed with laurel,
They tell me you're loved by Blue
They tell me you he sadly immoral -
Dear Clarence, that cannot be true
But tn me you still what found you
Before you grew clever and tall
And you'll think of the spell that once bound You
And you'll come, WON'T you come TO our ban
w. p. PRAED.