  BY MRS. C.B. WILSON. "So warmly we met," and so closely were jumbled, Like pigeons in pies, for the rooms were too small; I was fearful my new satin dress would be tumbled, As I gasp'd in a corner at Lady Blue's ball. Some attempted to dance, but ran 'gainst each other; Some flirted, some fainted; but this agreed all, They had ne'er before witness'd a crowd or a smother, Till jamm'd on the staircase at Lady Blue's ball! A dance! 'tis a heaven, if a girl's not neglected, And has plenty of partners to come at her call; And many a mirror's bright surface reflected Soft smiles and warm blushes at Lady Blue's ball! Mammas sat aside, (for eldest sons looking,) Whose daughters had beauty, but no cash at all; Younger brothers (in thought) were the bright thousands booking Of those girls who had fortunes at Lady Blue's ball. And some they were waltzing, and others quadrilling, "All pair'd, but not match'd," young and old, short and tall: While some in sly corners were cooing and billing Notes at sight, and of hand, at my Lady Blue's ball. Thus Fashion's gay crowd goes on flirting and whirling, As they mingle together, the great with the small; And what's life but a dance, too, where, twisting and twirling, We jostle each other, to get through the ball! |
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