Oh, daughter, lovelier than your lovely mother, Whatever punishment you may desire Give my offending verses; in the fire Throw them, please you, or in the Adriatic. Not Dindymene, no, nor even Apollo...
Behold a long procession passing proudly, And yet no glittering pomp adorns its way, Only the emblems of our States and Nation, Only the flags that floated on the day...
You are the loveliest parasol I ever saw, - and all my own, - What frilly frills! I feel as tall As mother now. Here! take my doll. Dolls are for children - ladies grown...