AT Cato's Head in Russell Street These leaves she sat a-stitching; I fancy she was trim and neat, Blue-eyed and quite bewitching. Before her on the street below, All powder, ruffs, and laces, There strutted idle London beaux To ogle pretty faces; While, filling many a Sedan chair With monstrous hoop and feather, In paint and powder London's fair Went trooping past together. Swift, Addison, and Pope, mayhap They sauntered slowly past her, Or printer's boy, with gown and cap, For Steele, went trotting faster. For beau nor wit had she a look; Nor lord nor lady minding, She bent her head above this book, Attentive to her binding. And one stray thread of golden hair, Caught on her nimble fingers, Was stitched within this volume, where Until to-day it lingers. Past and forgotten, beaux and fair, Wigs, powder, all outdated; A queer antique, the Sedan chair, Pope, stiff and antiquated. Yet as I turn these odd old plays, This single stray lock finding, I'm back in those forgotten days, And watch her at her binding. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MAN WITH THE HOE OUTWITTED by EDWIN MARKHAM OF DISTRESS BEING HUMILIATED BY THE CLASSICAL CHINESE POETS by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO MR. S.T. COLERIDGE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A HOLIDAY by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE SAPPHO AND PHAON: 2. THE TEMPLE OF CHASTITY by MARY DARBY ROBINSON MUCKLE-MOU'D MEG by JAMES BALLANTYNE IN THE HIGH HILLS by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: THE MAGIC LAND by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON BALLAD. TO THE TUNE OF 'SALLY IN OUR ALLEY' by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |