Don't listen to tales of his bounty, Don't hear what they say of his birth, Don't calculate what he is worth; (1828.) THE TALENTED MAN. A LETTER FROM A LADY IN LONDON TO A LADY AT LAUSANNE. DEAR Alice! you'll laugh when you know it, -Last week, at the Duchess's ball, I danced with the clever new poet, You've heard of him,-Tully St. Paul. Miss Jonquil was perfectly frantic; I wish you had seen Lady Anne! It really was very romantic, He is such a talented man! He came up from Brazen Nose College, Just caught, as they call it, this spring; And his head, love, is stuffed full of knowledge Of every conceivable thing. Of science and logic he chatters, As fine and as fast as he can; His stories and jests are delightful;— The stories not always quite true. But it never would answer,-good gracious! Chez nous in a talented man. He sneers,--how my Alice would scold him!- I vow I was quite in a passion; I broke all the sticks of my fan; But sentiment's quite out of fashion, It seems, in a talented man. Lady Bab, who is terribly moral, Has told me that Tully is vain, I listened, and doubted, dear Alice, For I saw, when my lady began, It was only the Dowager's malice;— She does hate a talented man! He's hideous, I own it. But fame, love, He's lame, but Lord Byron was lame, love, Then his voice,—such a voice! my sweet crea ture, It's like your Aunt Lucy's toucan: But oh! what's a tone or a feature, When once one's a talented man? My mother, you know, all the season, He has been less horrid of late. But to-day, when we drive in the carriage, If ever I venture on marriage, P. S.-I have found, on reflection, I've promised mamma to remember (1881) LETTERS FROM TEIGNMOUTH. I.-OUR BALL. "Comment! c'est lui? que je le regarde encore! C'est que vraiment il est bien changé; n'est ce pas, mon papa ?"-Les Premiers Amours. YOU'LL come to our ball;-since we parted For a week, when they took you away. Which you used to sing to me then. But, Clarence, you'll come to our Ball! It's only a year since, at College, You put on your cap and your gown; But, Clarence, you're grown out of knowledge, And changed from the spur to the crown; The voice that was best when it faltered, Is fuller and firmer in tone: And the smile that should never have altered, Dear Clarence, it is not your own; Your cravat was badly selected, Your coat don't become you at all; And why is your hair so neglected? You must have it curled for our Ball. I've often been out upon Haldon I sat in your love of a shawl; And I'll wear what you brought me from FloPerhaps, if you'll come to our Ball. [rence You'll find us all changed since you vanished; We've set up a National School; And waltzing is utterly banished; The Major is going to travel; Miss Hyacinth threatens a rout; The walk is laid down with fresh gravel; Papa is laid up with the gout: And Jane has gone on with her easels, |