Even so, my beloved Mrs. Bank, it must be;
This paying in cash plays the devil with wooing:
We've both had our swing, but I plainly foresee
There must soon be a stop to our _bill_ing and cooing.
Propagation in reason--a small child or two--
Even Reverend Malthus himself is a friend to;
The issue of some folks is moderate and few--
But _ours_, my dear corporate Bank, there's no end to!
So--hard tho' it be on a pair, who've already
Disposed of so many pounds, shillings and pence;
And in spite of that pink of prosperity, Freddy,[1]
So lavish of cash and so sparing of sense--
The day is at hand, my Papyria[2] Venus,
When--high as we once used to carry our capers--
Those soft _billet-doux_ we're now passing between us,
Will serve but to keep Mrs. Coutts in curl-papers:
And when--if we _still_ must continue our love,
(After all that has past)--our amour, it is clear,
Like that which Miss Danäe managed with Jove,
Must all be transacted in _bullion_, my dear!
_February, 1826_.
[1] Honorable Fredrick Robinson.
[2] So called, to distinguish her from the Aure or _Golden_ Venus.