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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540313" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Everyday Characters III - The Belle Of The Ball Room</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540313" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Years, years ago, ere yet my dreams <br>Had been of being wise and witty; <br>Ere I had done wth writing themes, <br>Or yawn'd o'er this infernal Chitty; -- <br>Years, years ago, while all my joy <br>Was in my fowling-piece and filly; <br>In short, while I was yet a boy, <br>I fell in love with Laura Lily. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540313" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I saw her at the County Ball; <br>There, when the sounds of flute and fiddle <br>Gave signal sweet in that old hall <br>Of hands across and down the middle, <br>Hers was the subtlest spell by far <br>Of all that set young hearts romancing: <br>She was our queen, our rose, our star; <br>And then she danced -- oh, Heaven, her dancing! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540313" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Dark was her hair, her hand was white; <br>Her voice was exquisitely tender; <br>Her eyes were full of liquid light; <br>I never saw a waist so slender; <br>Her every look, her every smile, <br>Shot right and left a score of arrows; <br>I though 'twas Venus from her isle, <br>And wonder'd where she left her sparrows. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540313" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Through sunny May, through sultry June, <br>I loved her with a love eternal; <br>I spoke her praises to the moon, <br>I wrote them to the Sunday Journal. <br>My mother laugh'd; I soon found out <br>That ancient ladies have no feeling: <br>My father frown'd, but how should gout <br>See any happiness in kneeling? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540313" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">She was the daughter of a dean, <br>Rich, fat, and rather apoplectic; <br>She had one brother just thriteen, <br>Whose color was extremely hectic; <br>Her grandmother, for many a year <br>Had fed the parish with her bounty; <br>Her second cousin was a peer, <br>And lord-lieutenant of the county. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540313" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But titles and the three-per-cents, <br>And mortgages, and great relations, <br>And India bonds, and tithes and rents, <br>Oh! what are they to love's sensations? <br>Black eyes, fair forehead, clustering locks, -- <br>Such wealth, such honors, Cupid chooses; <br>He cares as little for the stocks, <br>As Baron Rothschild for the Muses. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540313" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">She sketched; the vale, the wood, the beach, <br>Grew lovelier from her pencil's shading; <br>She botanized; I envied each <br>Young blossom in her boudoir fading; <br>She warbled Händel; it was grand, -- <br>She made the Catalina jealous; <br>She touch'd the organ; I could stand <br>For hours and hours to blow the bellows. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540313" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">She kept an album, too, at home, <br>Well fill'd with all an album's glories; <br>Paintings of butterfiles, and Rome, <br>Patterns for trimming, Persian stories, <br>Soft songs to Julia's cockatoo, <br>Fierce odes to Famine and to Slaughter; <br>And autographs of Prince Lèboo, <br>And recipes for elder-water. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540313" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And she was flatter'd, worshipp'd, bored; <br>Her steps were watch'd, her dress was noted; <br>Her poodle-dog was quite adored, <br>Her saying were extremely quoted. <br>She laugh'd, and every heart was glad, <br>As if the taxes were abolish'd; <br>She frown'd, and every look was sad, <br>As if the Opera were demolished. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540313" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">She smil'd on many just for fun, -- <br>I knew that there was nothing in it; <br>I was the first, the only one <br>Her heart had thought of for a minute. <br>I knew it, for she told me so, <br>In phrase which was divinely moulded; <br>She wrote a charming hand, and oh, <br>How sweetly all her notes were folded! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540313" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Our love was like most other loves, --- <br>A little glow, a little shiver, <br>A rosebud and a pair of gloves, <br>And 'Fly Not Yet,' upon the river; <br>Some jealousy of some one's heir, <br>Some hopes of dying broken-hearted; <br>A miniature, a lock of hair, <br>The usual vows -- and then we parted. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540313" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">We parted -- months and years roll'd by; <br>We met again four summers after; <br>Our parting was all sob and sigh -- <br>Our meeting was all mirth and laughter; <br>For in my heart's most secret cell, <br>There had been many other lodgers; <br>And she was not the ball-room's belle, <br>But only -- Mrs. Something Rogers.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Winthrop+Mackworth+Praed">Winthrop Mackworth Praed</a></strong></div>