When lovely woman, hooped in folly, Grows more expansive every day, And makes her husband melancholy To think what bills he’ll have to pay. When in the width of fashion swelling, With air-balloons her skirts may vie, The truth――(what hinders _Punch_ from telling?)―― Is that she looks a perfect Guy! _Punch_, February 21, 1857. ―――― “ANOTHER WAY.” When lovely woman, Lump of Folly, Would show the world her vainest trait; Would treat herself as child her dolly, And warn each man of sense away. The surest method she’ll discover To prompt a wink from every eye, Degrade a spouse, disgust a lover, And spoil a scalp-skin――is to dye, SHIRLEY BROOKS. 1866. ―――― A SILLY MANAGER. When Managers have stooped to folly, And find vulgarity won’t pay, And audiences won’t be jolly, But boldly rise and hiss the play: In order their misdeeds to cover, Some clap-trap for the gods they try Before the farce is halfway over, And insult add to injury. _Fun_, November 24, 1866. ―――― GOLDSMITH IMPROVED. When lovely woman takes to lollies,[6] And finds, too late, her teeth decay, What penitence can cure her follies, What chloroform her pain allay? If beauteous, she’ll be kindly pitied; If ugly, each good-tooth’d one’s butt. So she must get her mouth refitted, Or, what is better――keep it shut! _The Grasshopper_, July 1, 1869. ―――― BEAUTIFUL FOR EVER. When lovely woman, still a maiden, Finds her locks are turning grey, What art can keep their hue from fading? What balm can intercept delay? The only art her age to cover, To hide the change from every eye, To quell repentance in her lover, And soothe his bosom is――_to dye_. _Kottabos._ Dublin, W. McGee, 1872. ―――― FASHION. When lovely woman stoops to fashion And finds it like man’s fancy change, What can reclaim the truant passion, And capture it no more to range? The only way to curb love’s passion. And charm her fickle lover’s eye, To bring the colour to her chignon―― As the old joke says is――to dye. _The Hornet._ ―――― STANZAS ON WOMAN――BY O. G. When lovely woman takes to rinking, And finds how hard the asphalte’s got, What charm can save her heart from sinking, What art can heal the injured spot? The only plan she can pursue, To save herself another fall, In fact the only thing to do, In future’s not to rink at all. _The Idylls of the Rink_, 1876. ――――