Salmagundi; or, The whim-whams and opinions of Launcelot Langstaff, esq. [pseud.] and others. By William Irving, James Kirke Paulding and Washington Irving. Printed from the original ed., with a preface and notes by Evert A. Duyckinck.

LAUDATOR TEMPORIS ACTI. 187
And ruined all those haunts of joy
That gave him rapture when a boy;
Turns from it with averted eye,
And while he heaves the anguish'd sigh,
Scarce feels regret that the loved shore
Shall beam upon his sight no more;
Just so it grieves my soul to view,
While breathing forth a fond adieu,
The innovations pride has made,
The fustian, frippery, and parade,
That now usurp with mawkish grace
Pure tranquil pleasure's wonted place!'Twas joy we looked for in my prime,
That idol of the olden time;
When all our pastimes had the art
To please and not mislead the heart.
Style curs'd us not-that modern flash,
That love of racket and of trash,
Which scares at once all feeling joys,
And drowns delight in empty noise;
Which barters friendship, mirth and truth,
The artless air, the bloom of youth,
And all those gentle sweets that swarm
Round nature in her simplest form,
For cold display, for hollow state,
The trappings of the would-be great.
Oh I once again those days recall,
When heart met heart in fashion's hall,
When every honest guest would flock
To add his pleasure to the stock,
More fond his transports to express,