In London then not many years ago

There lived a lady of high fashion, who

For her friends' sake, if any still there be

Who hold her virtues green in memory,

Shall not be further named in this true tale

Than as Griselda or the Lady L.,

Such, if I err not, was the second name

Her parents gave when to the font she came,

And such the initial letter bravely set

On her coach door, beneath the coronet,

9

Which bore her and her fortunes—bore, alas!

For, as in this sad world all things must pass,

However great and nobly framed and fair:

Griselda, too, is of the things that were.

But while she lived Griselda had no need

Of the world's pity. She was proudly bred

And proudly nurtured. Plenty her full horn

Had fairly emptied out when she was born,

And dowered her with all bounties. She was fair

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