PER ASPERA AD ASTRA.

A canvas-back duck, rarely roasted, between us,

A bottle of Chambertin, worthy of praise —

Less noble a wine at our age would bemean us —

A salad of celery en mayonnaise,

With the oysters we've eaten, fresh, plump, and delicious,

Naught left of them now but a dream and the shells;

No better souper e'en Lucullus could wish us —

Why, even our waiter regards us as swells.

Your dress is a marvel, your jewels show finely,

Your friends in the circle all envied your box;

You say Lilli Lehman sang quite too divinely —

I know I can n't lose on that last deal in stocks.

Without waits our footman to call for our carriage —

Gad, how he must hate us, out there in the cold!—

We rode in a hack on the day of our marriage,

Number two forty-six — I was rolling in gold,

For I'd quite fifty dollars; and do n't you remember

We drove down to Taylor's, a long cherished dream:

How grandly I ordered — just think, in December!—

Some cake, and two plates of vanilla ice-cream.

And how we enjoyed it! Your glance was the proudest

Among the proud beauties, your face the most fair;

I'm rather afraid, too, your laugh was the loudest;

I know we shocked every one — we did n't care.

Now we'd care a great deal — with two sons at college,

And daughters just out, whose sneers make you wince,

We've tasted the fruit of Society's knowledge —

I do n't think we've quite enjoyed anything since.

All through, dear? Now, do n't wipe your mouth with the doily!

They're really not careful at all with their wine;

It was n't half warmed — the salad was oily —

And I do n't think the duck was remarkably fine.