Page:Halleck.djvu/122

 I've felt full many a heartache in my day, 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.

But Fanny's is an eye that you may gaze on 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.

Her father kept, some fifteen years ago, 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.

Money is power, 'tis said—I never tried; I'm but a poet—and bank-notes to me