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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