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[Illustration: DISSOLUTION--(AS THE ENEMY OF THE LONDON SEASON).]
There was a sound of revelry by day,
And England's Capital had gathered then,
Her Beauty and her Masherdom, and gay
Spring's sun shone o'er smart women and swell men;
A thousand shops shone showily; and when
MAY came to Mayfair, FLORA to Pall-Mall,
Shrewd eyes winked hope to eyes which winked again,
And maids heard sounds as of the marriage-bell.
But hush! hark! a harsh sound strikes like a sudden knell!
Did ye not hear it? Is it howling wind?
The tram-car rattling o'er the stony street?
The groans of M.P.'s wearily confined
To the dull House when night and morning meet,
Dragged to Divisions drear with dawdling feet?
No, hark! that heavy sound breaks in once more,
The street, the hall its echoes now repeat,
And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before!
Arm! Arm! it is--it is--the Elections' opening roar!
'Tis in our midst--that figure draped and dim,
Whose mocking music makes us all afraid.
"Death as the Foe!" Can it indeed be _Him_?
Duller, more dirge-like tune was never played
On strings more spirit-chilling. Feet are stayed
Though in mid-waltz, and laughter, though at height,
Hushes, and maidens modishly arrayed
For matrimonial conquest, shrink with fright;
And Fashion palsied sits, and Shopdom takes to flight.
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