HENRY MEREDITH PARKER.
The Late Mr. Simms.
Who did not know that Office Jaun of pale Pomona green.
With its drab and yellow lining, and picked out black between.
Which down the Esplanade did go at the ninth hour of the day?
We ne'er shall see it thus again,—Alas! and well-a-day!
With its bright brass patent axles, and its little hog-maned tatts.
And its ever jetty harness, which was always made by Watts,
The harness black and silver, and the ponies of dark grey,
And shall we never see it more,—Alas! and well-a-day!
With its very tidy coachman with a very old grey beard.
And its pair of neat clad sayces, on whom no spot appeared.
Not sitting lazily behind, but running all the way
By Mr. Simms' little coach—Alas! and well-a-day!
And when he reached the counting house he got out at the door.
And entering the office made just three bows and no more,
Then passing through the clerks he smiled, a sweet smile and a gay,
And kindly spoke the younger ones—Alas! and well-a-day!
And all did love to see him with his jacket rather long,
It was the way they wore them when good Mr. Simms was young,
With his Nankeen breeches buckled by two gold buckles alway.
And his China tight silk stockings, pink and shiny, well-a-day!