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 As a true dandy of the modern schools. One hates to be old-fashioned; it would be A violation of the latest rules, To treat the sex with too much courtesy. 'Tis not to worship beauty, as she glows In all her diamond lustre, that the beaux

Of these enlightened days at evening crowd, Where Fashion welcomes in her rooms of light That "dignified obedience; that proud Submission," which, in times of yore, the knight Gave to his "ladye-love," is now a scandal, And practised only by your Goth or Vandal.

To lounge in graceful attitudes—be stared Upon, the while, by every fair one's eye, And stare one's self, in turn; to be prepared To dart upon the trays, as swiftly by The dexterous Simon bears them, and to take One's share at least of coffee, cream, and cake,

Is now to be "the ton." The pouting lip, And sad, upbraiding eye of the poor girl,