Pocahontas and Other Poems (New York)/The Milliners and Fishes

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4068334Pocahontas and Other Poems (New York)The Milliners and Fishes1841Lydia Huntley Sigourney


THE MILLINERS AND FISHES.



Commerce and enterprise should be applauded,
And so the Paris milliners opine
It seems; for when their fashionable fabrics
Grow obsolete, 'tis said they freight a vessel
Straight for the Baltic, and the Northern belles
In the quaint fragments of the realm of taste,
Proudly array themselves. And yet 'twere sad,
Methinks, to see, at polar fête or ball,
Some shivering Nova-Zemblan lady flaunt
In robe of lace, short-sleeved, the purple bust
Reveal'd most liberally.
                                        Once a storm,
Hoarse from the Gulf of Finland, crossly wreck'd
The adventurous ship quite near her destined port,
And strew'd her riches o'er the admiring deep.
There perish'd many a hope of many a fair
Young sempstress, by such cruel loss condemn'd
To wear her cast-off dress another year,
Vamp'd up as best she may.
                                              'Tis an ill wind
That blows no good. The watery realm rejoiced,
For all its finny aristocracy
Of their oldfashioned suits had long complain'd.
Next day a Salmon at the Neva's mouth
Was taken, very delicately clad
In a white lutestring drapery, with veil

Of costly blonde: her wedding dress, no doubt.
The bridemaid, Porpoise, wore a radiant zone
Girt rather tight around the slender waist,
While her embroider'd mouchoir snugly hid
A bottle of Cologne to cheer the bride
During the service. Ogling, near the shore
A Sturgeon stole, her finery to display:
A very stiff brocade, with bishop sleeves,
Making such huge circumference 'twere well
She had no neighbour near; while a smart hat
Envelop'd in its rich rotundity
Her fairy brow.
                           The Seal was taking snuff,
And thrust his box in a bead reticule;
The other rough paw held a parasol
Of parti-colour'd silk, and ivory-staff'd:
'Twas thought the Amphibia, one and all, would find
This fashion quite commodious, in their walks
To leave their cards beneath the summer sun.

—A Shark in a small boat's wake follow'd long;
The sailors thought his purpose was to eat them,
And spread all sail; but 'twas to be unlaced,
For he a pair of corsets had rigg'd on,
With busk and bones, just fashionably tight,
But could not bear the torture; so with haste
Panting and flouncing, sought to be released.
Item: Would it not be the surest way
To kill that hardy and voracious fish,
Which ofttimes foils the harpoon?
                                                        Mighty mounds
Of artificial flowers did make the deep

Glow like a greenhouse. Full frisets and curls
Lay unregarded, till a prudish Pike,
Suspected to be somewhat in her wane,
Assumed a wig, declaring it more cool,
And vastly more delightful to the head
Than was the natural hair.
                                             Such varied stores
Of gay gauze robes on seaweed hedges hung,
That the plebeians thought to have a ball
In the old Coral Palace. Thither came
The Codlings, deck'd with drooping Ostrich-plumes,
The purblind Lampreys, each with opera-glass
Uplifted pertly, and gay safety-chain
The gilded watch within their belts to guard;
The Lobsters toiling their red arms to hide
'Neath long kid gloves, and their strange nether limbs
Ensconced in gaiter-boots; while countless shoals
Of Herrings flock'd, false brilliants in their heads
In gorgeous knots; and Crabs with widespread fans,
Aping the elegant, but inly chafed
To find their retrograding step confound
Their partners, figuring in the favourite waltz.

—A barge of Oysters reach'd St. Petersburgh:
Extremely loth they were to be dissected,
For those sly people in their cloister'd cells,
Close-mouth'd as Achan with his wedge of gold,
Lock'd hoards of jewelry, broaches and rings
Profuse as ancient Cannæ's battle spoil.

—Even thus it is. What bodeth loss to one
Doth prove another's gain. The adversity

Of those French milliners did benefit
The commonwealth of fishes. A few tears,
Brief and soon dried, fill'd the broad sea with joy
And merry pastime. One small spot of earth
Was sad, but what a gorgeous holyday
Held Ocean's myriads!
                                      Sure the tuneful bard
Of Twickenham hath not unjustly styled
"All partial evil universal good."