On crimson piles luxuriantly recline,

And see the premature decay of age

Transformed to youth, a lovely columbine!

While th' gorgeous tapestries of rare design

In rich profusion hang in heavy fold;

See every pantomimic splendour shine

Like glist'ring starlight, opal, pearl, and gold,

Mirrors reflecting mirrors, countless and untold!

LXXVI.

But some folks always spend the night in gaming,

Or very nearly so, at any rate,

And other vices hardly worth the naming

(But we, of course, are not immaculate),

Then think of rising very, very late

After a night's debauch and dissipation

And rolling homewards with unsteady gait

(Perhaps 'twas after the red-hot gyration

Of the previous evening). Ours is a sad nation![27]

[27]

LXXVII.

 Prev. P 42/167 next