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 And he, the hero of the night was there, In breeches of light drab, and coat of blue. Taste was conspicuous in his powdered hair, And in his frequent jeux de mots, that drew Peals of applauses from the listeners round, Who were delighted—as in duty bound.

'Twas Fanny's father—Fanny near him stood, Her power, resistless—and her wish, command; And Hope's young promises were all made good; "She reigned a fairy queen in fairy land;" Her dream of infancy a dream no more, And then how beautiful the dress she wore!

Ambition with the sire had kept her word. He had the rose, no matter for its thorn, And he seemed happy as a summer bird, Careering on wet wing to meet the morn. Some said there was a cloud upon his brow; It might be—but we'll not discuss that now.

I left him making rhymes while crossing o'er The broad and perilous wave of the North River.