. The ballad of Beau Brocade, and other poems of the XVIIIth century. serves, for curds and whey. For finest tea (she called it tay ), And ratafia;She knew, for sprains, what bands to tell the sovereign wash to useFor freckles, and was learned in brews As erst Medea. Yet studied little. She would Sundays, Pearson on the Creed,Though, as I think, she could not heed His text profoundly;Seeing she chose for her retreatThe warm west-looking window-seat,Where, if you chanced to raise your feet, You slumbered soundly. 42 A Gentlewoman of the Old School. This, twixt ourselves. Th
. The ballad of Beau Brocade, and other poems of the XVIIIth century. serves, for curds and whey. For finest tea (she called it tay ), And ratafia;She knew, for sprains, what bands to tell the sovereign wash to useFor freckles, and was learned in brews As erst Medea. Yet studied little. She would Sundays, Pearson on the Creed,Though, as I think, she could not heed His text profoundly;Seeing she chose for her retreatThe warm west-looking window-seat,Where, if you chanced to raise your feet, You slumbered soundly. 42 A Gentlewoman of the Old School. This, twixt ourselves. The dear old dame,In truth, was not so much to blame;The excellent divine I name Is scarcely stirring;Her plain-song piety preferredPure life to precept. If she erred,She knew her faults. Her softest word Was for the erring. If she had loved, or if she keptSome ancient memory green, or weptOver the shoulder-knot that slept Within her cuff-box,I know not. Only this I know,At sixty-five she d still her beau,A lean French exile, lame and slow. With monstrous ^fiayn4<nv n^ (au^ffter; A Gentlewoman of the Old School. 43 Younger than she, well-born and d found him in St. Giles, half deadOf teaching French for nightly bed And daily dinners;Starving, in fact, twixt want and pride;And so, henceforth, you always spiedHis rusty pigeon-wings beside Her Mechlin pinners. He worshipped her, you may gained him pupils, gave him in his dry bon-mots And cackling laughter;And when, at last, the long duetOf conversation and picquetCeased with her death, of sheer regret He died soon after. 44 A Gentlewoman of the Old School. Dear Madam Placid! Others knewYour worth as well as he, and threwTheir flowers upon your coffin too, I take for loves are lost; but still we seeYour kind and gracious memoryBloom yearly with the almond tree The Frenchman planted.
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Keywords: ., bookauthordobsonau, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookyear1892
