112 RICH AND POOR.
Pale robes fair and soft as the summer-night mist On the hills by the rays of the moon lightly kissed ; Rich silks trailing splendor, and camel s-hair shawls, Gay Paris-made toilettes, for parties and balls, With milliners goods in the greatest variety, Befitting a belle of our modern society, From a seaside chapeau to an opera bonnet, Like a wisp of cloud with a rose-shadow on it ; Scarfs, mantles, and gloves, rich jewels and laces, For every occasion and all proper places.
They built up a wall of such trifles about her Until Arabella in heart should grow stouter ; But ah ! there was never a toilette to sigh in, Nor one she could choose from their splendor to
die in
No blood-whitened robe for the city eternal, Nor pearl of great price with its lustre supernal.
They packed up their trunks not a small under taking
And carried the child, with her heart slowly breaking, Away to the Springs,
Bright fountains so healing
Where army-contractors, their new wealth revealing, Flashed diamonds gayly in eyes that grew dimmer For soldiers, who, dying, thus purchased that shimmer; Where beauty and ugliness, poverty, wealth, All stoop to the fountain for fashion or health ; Where brains tired out for a season stop thinking, And brains never strong are diluted by drinking ;
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