The morn was beautiful and bright,
The sun—that general adorner—
Was gilding with its glowing light
The iron rails at Hyde Park Corner.
The lodge beneath its radiance gleamed,—
Into some curds there shot a ray;
As if within the bowl it dreamed
To find on earth the milky whey.
Lured by the clearness of the sky,
A party, though the hour was late,
Resolved on ordering a fly,
To waft them to the Chiswick _Fête_.
And by those sympathetic chains
Few can describe, but each one owns,
The same idea had struck the Paynes,
Brown, Thompson, Edwards, Smith, and Jones.
Oh, sympathy! thou hast the power
To make twelve hearts in concert throb;
And eke to give, within one hour,
Twelve different liv'rymen a job.
Thus did thine influence extend
(Explain it, ye who study physic);
Making a lot of parties send
For vehicles, to go to Chiswick.
No sooner had they reached the spot,
Than straight the sky is seen to lower;
And, like a curious watering-pot,
Pours down a most terrific shower.
The _belles_ can't save their satin bows,
Their silks are watered—how they scamper
Fate on that _fête_ unkindly throws
A sudden, but decisive damper.
NOTES OF A CONTINENTAL TOUR,
IN THE SUMMER OF 1844.