Nor showed the least desire to range.
The hobble only brought to me
These thoughts with consolation laden:--
"Lo, this is Fashion's fell decree;
One must not blame the maiden.

"It is not hers this hideous choice;
She blindly follows Fashion's lead,
And deference to a ruling voice
Proclaims her just the wife I need.
Nought questioning, she answers to
That voice, as soldiers to a trumpet;"
And thus I choked the thought that you
Were barmy on the crumpet.

But now unhappy doubts intrude
To bid my satisfaction shrink;
For Fashion in a gracious mood
Allows her devotees to think.
Since for your present garb, it seems,
The mode is not to blame _in toto_,
This is the end of love's young dreams
(Dear, you may keep my photo).

* * * * *

"Of course, there is a dress parade, with some wonderful
dresses, but if it had been only a parade it would not have
been less interesting."--_Daily News._