Without proper regard to veraci_tee_,
Should haste to town, to drag me down
From my envied post of poetic renown.
Miss P***, I've a favor to ask.--If 'tis true,
That "Nothing to Wear," and "Nothing to Do,"
And "Nothing to Eat," were all written by you,--
Let those three Nothings content you I pray,
Say nothing yourself; leave me "Nothing to Say."

* * * * *

From time immemorial, people of fashion
Have been the target of poets and penny wits,
And been lampooned without stint or compassion,
From Dan to Beersheba--from Dublin to Dennevitz;
And our now-a-day rhymsters, taking the cue,
Have aimed all their shots at the Fifth Avenue,
Till the clever author of "Nothing to Wear,"
Fired his broadside at Madison Square.
Now _I_ don't consider this sort of thing personal,
_I'm_ not a bit of a dandy or fop;
But the seed it is constantly sowing, is worse than all
Others, and bears a most plentiful crop;
For it all goes to strengthen the popular fallacy
That, because a man lives in a "brown stone palace" he
Must be a miser, a rogue and a knave,
Without soul enough to condemn or to save--

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That a broadcloth coat argues sin, if not felony;
If a man has the tact in the world to get well on, he
Cannot be else than a thorough-paced scamp;
That the "villanous rich" wear a cloak and a mask, all,
And the greater the riches, the greater the rascal.
That the cardinal virtues only endure,
In the atmosphere with the "virtuous poor;"
That nowhere are found the true Christian graces,
Save closely allied to the dirtiest faces.
I shall not contradict this delightful tradition,
But beg--No, I won't, I will take it--permission,
To state, that I think there's a word to be said,
From a different text, on the opposite head.
And so I'll invent, as well as I'm able,
A new home-made, allegorical fable;
And my honest purpose shall be, to see
If the scoundrel rich have not borne a part
In those noble charities, which are
The pride of this jolly old city's heart.
And if I shall find that the virtuous mob
Have ever been known one farthing to pay,
Without hoping a hundred-fold profit to make:
Where the "rich man," the "miser," "aristocrat," "snob,"
Has poured out his thousands for Charity's sake,
I'll lay down my pen, and have "Nothing to Say."

* *