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“THEY SIT ALL NIGHT AT OMBRE,

WITH CANDLES ALL OF WAX.”

Painted by Maud Humphrey.

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THE LADIES OF ST. JAMES'S.

A PROPER NEW BALLAD OF THE COUNTRY AND THE TOWN.

The ladies of St. James's

But Phyllida, my Phyllida! Go swinging to the play;

The breath of heath and furze, Their footmen run before them,

When breezes blow at morning, With a "Stand by! Clear the way!"

Is scarce so fresh as hers. But Phyllida, my Phyllida!

The ladies of St. She takes her buck

James's, led shoon,

They're painted to When we go out a

the eyes; courting

Their white it stays Beneath the harvest

forever, moon.

Their red it never

dies; The ladies of St.

But Phyllida, my PhylJames's

lida! Wear satin on their

Her color comes backs;

and goes; They sit all night at

It trembles to a Oinbre,

lily, With candles all of

It wavers to a rose. wax; But Phyllida, my Phyllida!

The ladies of St. She dons her russet

James's gown

With “Mercy!" and And runs to gather

with “Lud!” May dew

They season all their Before the world is

speeches
" AND RUNS TO GATHER MAY DEW
down.

(They come of noble BEFORE THE WORLD IS DOWN."

blood); The ladies of St. James's,

But Phyllida, my Phyllida ! They are so fine and fair

Her shy and simple words You'd think a box of essences

Are sweet as, after rain-drops, Was broken in the air;

The music of the birds.

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