ACCOMPLISHED YOUNG LADY
[from ' VALENTINES' section, ed.]
AM dying with ardent affection,
So I send these few verses to thee,
In the hope that they will meet your inspection;
But I fear you're too clever for me.
And although in intense adoration,
There can be no very great sin,
To address such a clever young lady,-
I'm really afraid to begin.
indeed, you're remarkably clever,
And of talents possess such a store,
That I'm truly unconscious if ever,
I witness'd such knowledge before.
I would laud you beyond all conception,
But I fear at my praise you would laugh;
For I know you accomplish'd young ladies
Are sometimes too clever by half!
with a thrilling expression,
That makes all your auditors tremble,
And warble out "Del cor tradisti,"
Like Grisi or Adelaide Kemble.
Tis divine - though some illnatured folks,
Full of envy, snarl out in their rage,
"Tis a pity this clever young lady
Wasn't brought up at once for the stage."
You embroider such exquisite patterns
For ottomans, sofas, and chairs
And I hear you have finish'd a carpet
That stretches up two pair of stairs
Though the same set of commonplace people
Opine 'twould be better by far,
If these wool-working clever young ladies
Took stalls at the Lowther Bazaar.
You write the most ladylike poems
And I hear that (incog.), now and then,
The Assemblée's elaborate columns
Are graced by the fruits of your pen.
They are brilliantly soft, I allow
But with all the respect for a blue,
The world thinks 'tis sometimes a pity
You find nothing better to do.
There are many opposed to such measures,
Who hint from the right you depart,
In cramming the head with such treasures
And wholly forgetting the heart
But hearts have long ceased to exist,
So I deem your affections are free,
And the chance is not one to be miss'd,
Then, fair one, my VALENTINE be.
Punch, Jan.-Jun. 1842
NOT TO BE BEATEN
Mrs. Brown (whose Daughter has just been performing admirably on the Piano-Forte). "DO YOUR DAUGHTERS PLAY, MRS. JONES?" Mrs. Jones (whose four daughters have been listening) "NO." Mrs. Brown. "SING?" Mrs. Jones. "NO." Mrs. Brown. "PAINT IN WATER-COLOURS?" Mrs. Jones. "NO. WE GO IN FOR BEAUTY!"
Punch, January 18, 1873