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There were Myrtles and Roses from garden and plain, And Venus's Fly Trap, they brought in their train; So the beaux cluster'd round them, they hardly knew why, At each smile of the lip, or each glance of the eye. Madame Damask a robe had from Paris brought out, The envy of all who attended the rout; Its drapery was folded, her form to adorn, And clasp'd at the breast with a diamond-set thorn. Yet she, quite unconscious, 't would seem, of the grace That enchanted all groups who frequented the place, Introduced, with the sweetest of words in her mouth, The young Multiflora,—her guest from the South. Neighbor Cinnamon prated of household and care,— How she seldom went out, even to breathe the fresh air;