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.

66 SA SLMAGUNDI.
The asperities polish'd which chafed in my prime;
I'm fully prepared for that delicate end,
The fair one's instructor, companion and friend
-And should I perceive you in fashion's gay dance,
Allured by the frippery-mongers of France,
Expose your weak frames to a chill wintry sky
To be nipp'd by its frosts, to be torn from the eye;
My soft admonitions shall fall on your earShall whisper those parents to whom you are dearShall warn you of hazards you heedlessly run,
And sing of those fair ones whom frost has undone,
Bright suns that would scarce on our horizon dawn,
Ere shrouded from sight, they were early withdrawn;
Gay sylphs, who have float in circles below,
As pure in their souls, and as transient as snow;
Sweet roses, that bloom'd and decay'd to my eye,
And of forms that have flitted and passed to the sky.
But as to those brainless pert bloods of our town,
Those sprigs of the ton who run decency down;
Who lounge and who lout, and who booby about,
No knowledge within, and no manners without;
Who stare at each beauty with insolent eyes;
Who rail at those morals their fathers would prize;
Who are loud at the play-and who impiously dare
To come in their cups to the routs of the fair;
I shall hold up my mirror, to let them survey
The figures they cut as they dash it away:
Should my good-humored verse no amendment produce,
Like scarecrows, at least, they shall still be of use;
I shall stitch them, in effigy, up in my rhyme,
And hold them aloft through the progress of time,