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 Hers were not "castles in the air" that rose Based upon nothing; for her sire was able, As well she knew, to "buy out" the one-half Of Fashion's glittering train, that nightly quaff

Wine, wit, and wisdom, at a midnight rout, From dandy coachmen, whose "exquisite" grin And "ruffian" lounge flash brilliantly without, Down to their brother dandies ranged within, Gay as the Brussels carpeting they tread on, And sapient as the oysters they are fed on.

And Rumor (she's a famous liar, yet 'Tis wonderful how easy we believe her) Had whispered he was rich, and all he met In Wall Street, nodded, smiled, and "tipped the beaver;" All,—from Mr. Gelston, the collector, Down to the broker, and the bank director.

A few brief years passed over, and his rank Among the worthies of that street was fixed; He had become director of a bank, And six insurance offices, and mixed