102
FANNY.
iii.
At the mere rustling of a muslin gown,
And caught some dreadful colds, I blush to say,
While shivering in the shade of beauty's frown.
They say her smiles are sunbeams—it may be—
But never a sunbeam would she throw on me.
iv.
For half an hour, without the slightest harm;
E'en when she wore her smiling summer face on
There was but little danger, and the charm
That youth and wealth once gave, has bade farewell:
Hers is a sad, sad tale—'tis mine its woes to tell.
v.
A retail dry-good shop in Chatham Street,
And nursed his little earnings, sure though slow,
Till, having mustered wherewithal to meet
The gaze of the great world, he breathed the air
Of Pearl Street—and "set up" in Hanover Square.
vi.
I'm but a poet—and bank-notes to me