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قراءة كتاب The Emperor's Rout

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The Emperor's Rout

The Emperor's Rout

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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[p3]
THE
EMPEROR’S ROUT.


ILLUSTRATED BY COLOURED PLATES.


LONDON:
CHARLES TILT, 86, FLEET STREET.
MDCCCXXXI.

[p4]
LONDON:
BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS,
BOUVERIE STREET.

[p5]
THE EMPEROR’S ROUT.


As the Emperor Moth1 sat one evening in May,
Fanned by numberless wings in the moon’s silver ray,
[p6]
While around him the zephyrs breathed sweetest perfume,
Thus he spoke to his dwarf with the Ragged white plume:2
“That vain Butterfly’s Ball, I hear, was most splendid,
And, as the world says, very fully attended,
Though she never asked us, but assigned as a cause,
We were all much too heavy to gallope and waltz.
What impertinence this, want of grace to ascribe
To the Lord of the whole Lepidopterous tribe;
I too’ll give a ball, and such folks to chastise,
I’ll not be at home to these pert butterflies.
[p7]
Bid the Empress3 come hither, and we’ll talk about
What arrangements to make for a capital rout.”

[p6a]

M. Gauci delt. Printed by C. Motte 23. Leicester Sqre.
THE INVITATION.

The Empress obeyed her lord’s summons with speed,
And proceeded her visiting tablets to read,
That those of her subjects, whose homage was booked
In that coveted record, might not be o’erlooked.
Then the Bufftip4 began to write each moth a card,
Having one for herself just by way of reward.
“First ask,” says the Emperor, “the Glory of Kent,5
On having much beauty my mind is quite bent;
[p8]
The Belle, too, of Brixton,6 the Marvel du Jour,7
And the Peach-blossom8 moth you’ll invite, I am sure;
The Sphinx9 too, shall come, who makes riddles so well,
And the Gipsey10 be ready our fortunes to tell;
[p9]
Mother Shipton11 shall chap’rone the lovely Black I,12
And those awkward Greek girls, Lambda,13Gamma,14 and Chi;15
Hebrew Character,16 too, who for routs has a passion;
And I’ll ask Mrs. Gothic,17 though she’s out of fashion,
[p10]
For I love my old friends, and had rather that they
Should partake of our feast, than the idle and gay,
Who flutter about without object or reason,
Just live for an hour, and last but a season.”
How little, alas! do great moths bear in mind,
That their tenure of life is of just the same kind.
“You’re right,” said the Empress, “and truly ’twere shabby,
T’exclude from our party poor old Mrs. Tabby,18
[p11]
And the Rustics19 I’ll ask, though not one has a gown
In which to appear, save of black, grey, or brown;
And some of them go, too, so feathered and flounced,
That the Coxcomb20 called Prominent, on them pronounced
A sentence of censure, quite just, but so tart,
That I felt, when I heard it, quite cut

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