Nothing to Wear
“So I did,” I replied; “but the dinner is swallowed
And digested, I trust, for ’tis now nine and more,
So being relieved from that duty, I followed
Inclination, which led me, you see, to your door;
And now will your ladyship so condescend
As just to inform me if you intend
Your beauty and graces and presence to lend
(All of which, when I own, I hope no one will borrow)
To the Stuckups’, whose party, you know, is to-morrow?”
The fair Flora looked up with a pitiful air,
And answered quite promptly, “Why, Harry, mon cher,
I should like above all things to go with you there;
But really and truly—I’ve nothing to wear.”
“Nothing to wear! go just as you are;
Wear the dress you have on, and you’ll be by far,
I engage, the most bright and particular star
On the Stuckup horizon”—I stopped—for her eye,
Notwithstanding this delicate onset of flattery,
Opened on me at once a most terrible battery
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