First there appear'd, with the title of visitors, Folks, whom of fair reputation they call, Who, in good truth, and to candid inquisitors, Seem to have no reputation at all, The Woods', hen and chicken, And Damer, moon-stricken, And Russells, come thick in, To greet the fat dame; And the Duchess of Leinster, (Well behaved while a spinster,) With drabs of Westminster, Now mixes her name! Next, in great state, came the Countess of Tankerville, With all the sons and the daughters she had; Those who themselves are annoy'd by a canker vile, Joy to discover another as bad: So Lady Moll came on, With _ci-devant_ Grammont, And (awful as Ammon) Her eloquent spouse! And frothy Grey Bennett, That very day se'nnight, Went down in his dennett, To Brandenburgh House. Bold, yet half blushing, the gay Lady Jersey, Drove up to the entrance--but halted outside, While Sefton's fair tribe, from the banks of the Mersey, Who promised to keep her in countenance--shyed! But this never hinders The sham Lady Lindors, Who stoutly goes indoors-- Old Rush does the same; Great scorn of all such is!-- But Bedford's brave Duchess, To get in her clutches, Delighted the dame. Lank Lady Anne brought her sister of Somerset; The least she could do for the wages she clears: If the merits of either were up to the hammer set, They'd fetch much the same as Lord Archibald's ears. Not so Lady Sarah, For she, under care o' Some Hume or O'Meara, Lies sick in her bed; Yet her name they twist in By means they persist in Of even enlisting The names of the dead! Then came the premature wife of her pen-man, Her guide, her adviser--in short, Mrs. Brougham, And then the spare rib of Go-sin-no-more Denman, And sweet Mrs. Williams, and young Mrs. Hume; Old Barber, and Taylor, And Hood, could not fail her. But the Muse can't detail, or Discuss what remains;-- Except Mrs. Wilde, Who, for roast and for boil'd, While as cook-maid she toil'd, Was the pride of Devaynes.