In sooth, her dull auricular drum
Could find in Humble only a "hum,"
And heard no sound of "gentle" come,
In talking about gentility.

VI.

What Lowly meant she did n't know,
For she always avoided "everything low,"
With care the most punctilious,

And queerer still, the audible sound
Of "super-silly" she never had found
In the adjective supercilious!

VII.

The meaning of Meek she never knew,

But imagined the phrase had something to do
With "Moses," - a peddling German Jew,
Who, like all hawkers the country through,
Was a person of no position;

And it seemed to her exceedingly plain,
If the word was really known to pertain
To a vulgar German, it was n't germane
To a lady of high condition!

VIII.

Even her graces, - not her grace,

For that was in the "vocative case," -
Chilled with the touch of her icy face,
Sat very stiffly upon her;

She never confessed a favor aloud,
Like one of the simple, common crowd,
But coldly smiled, and faintly bowed,
As who should say: "You do me proud,
And do yourself an honor!"

IX.

And yet the pride of Miss Mac Bride,
Although it had fifty hobbies to ride,
Had really no foundation;

But, like the fabrics that gossips devise,
Those single stories that often arise

And grow till they reach a four-story size, –
Was merely a fancy creation!

X.

'Tis a curious fact as ever was known In human nature, but often shown

Alike in castle and cottage,

That pride, like pigs of a certain breed,

Will manage to live and thrive on

"feed"

As poor as a pauper's pottage!

XI.

That her wit should never have made her vain, Was, like her face, sufficiently plain;

And as to her musical powers,

Although she sang until she was hoarse,
And issued notes with a Banker's force,
They were just such notes as we never indorse
For any acquaintance of ours!

XII.

Her birth, indeed, was uncommonly high,
For Miss Mac Bride first opened her eye
Through a skylight dim, on the light of the sky;
But pride is a curious passion,

And in talking about her wealth and worth
She always forgot to mention her birth,
To people of rank and fashion!

XIII.

Of all the notable things on earth,

The queerest one is pride of birth,

Among our "fierce Democracie"!

A bridge across a hundred years,
Without a prop to save it from sneers, -
Not even a couple of rotten Peers,
A thing for laughter, fleers, and jeers,
Is American aristocracy!

XIV.

English and Irish, French and Spanish,
German, Italian, Dutch, and Danish,
Crossing their veins until they vanish
In one conglomeration!

So subtle a tangle of Blood, indeed,
No modern Harvey will ever succeed
In finding the circulation!

XV.

Depend upon it, my snobbish friend,
Your family thread you can't ascend,
Without good reason to apprehend
You may find it waxed at the farther end
By some plebeian vocation;

Or, worse than that, your boasted Line
May end in a loop of stronger twine,

That plagued some worthy relation!

XVI.

But Miss MacBride hath something beside Her lofty birth to nourish her pride,

For rich was the old paternal MacBride, According to public rumor;

And he lived "Up Town," in a splendid square,
And kept his daughter on dainty fare,

And gave her gems that were rich and rare,
And the finest rings and things to wear,

And feathers enough to plume her!

XVII.

An honest mechanic was John MacBride,
As ever an honest calling plied,

Or graced an honest ditty;

For John had worked in his early day,
In "Pots and Pearls," the legends say,
And kept a shop with a rich array
Of things in the soap and candle way,
In the lower part of the city.

XVIII.

No rara avis was honest John,
(That's the Latin for "sable swan,”)

Though, in one of his fancy flashes,

A wicked wag, who meant to deride, Called honest John, “Old Phenix MacBride," "Because he rose from his ashes!"

XIX.

Alack! for many ambitious beaux !
She hung their hopes upon her nose,

(The figure is quite Horatian !) *
Until from habit the member grew
As queer a thing as ever you knew
Turn up to observation!

* "Omnia suspendens naso."

XX.

A thriving tailor begged her hand,
But she gave "the fellow" to understand,
By a violent manual action,

She perfectly scorned the best of his clan,
And reckoned the ninth of any man

An exceedingly Vulgar Fraction!

XXI.

Another, whose sign was a golden boot,
Was mortified with a bootless suit,

In a way that was quite appalling;
For though a regular sutor by trade,
He was n't a suitor to suit the maid,
Who cut him off with a saw, — and bade
"The cobbler keep to his calling."

There is n't the faintest shadow of doubt,
That folks who oftenest sneer and flout

At "the dirty, low mechanicals,"

Are they whose sires, by pounding their knees, Or coiling their legs, or trades like these, Contrived to win their children ease

From poverty's galling manacles.)

XXIII.

A rich tobacconist comes and sues,

And, thinking the lady would scarce refuse
A man of his wealth and liberal views,

Began, at once, with, "If you choose,

And could you really love him