  IN days when George the Third was King And ruled the Old Dominion, And Law and Fashion owned the sway Of Parliament’s opinion, A good ship brought across the sea A treasure fair and fine,— Miss Nancy’s gown from London Town, The latest Court design! The plaited waist from neck to belt Scarce measured half a span; The sleeves, balloon-like, at the top Could hold her feather fan; The narrow skirt with bias gore Revealed an ankle neat, Whene’er she put her dainty foot From carriage step to street! By skilful hands this wondrous gown Of costliest stuff was made, Cocoons of France on Antwerp looms Wrought to embossed brocade, Where roses red and violets In blooming beauty grew, As if young May were there alway, And from this bower of delight Miss Nancy reigned a Queen, Nor one disloyal heart rebelled In all her wild demesne: The noble House of Burgesses Forgot its fierce debate O’er rights of Crown, when Nancy’s gown Appeared in Halls of State! Through jocund reel, or measured tread Of stately minuet, Like fairy vision shone the bloom Of rose and violet, As, hand in hand with Washington, The hero of the day, The smiling face and nymph-like grace Of Nancy led the way! A century, since that gay time The merry dance was trod, Has passed, and Nancy long has slept Beneath the churchyard sod; Yet on the brocade velvet gown The rose and violet Are blooming bright as on the night She danced the minuet! Zitella Cocke. |
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