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PHOEBE, OR MY GRANDMOTHER WEST, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Ah, phoebe! How slily, love's arrow to barb
Last Line: A counterfeit true of her grandmamma west.
Subject(s): Clothing & Dress; Girls; Grandparents; Love; Time; Grandmothers; Grandfathers; Great Grandfathers; Great Grandmothers


AH, Phoebe! how slily, love's arrow to barb,
You've stolen down stairs in your grandmamma's garb!
Your ringlet-graced head, and your stomacher flat,
The cut of your cloak, and the bend of your hat,
Your flounce and your furbelow, all have confessed
Your masquerade likeness to Grandmamma West.

That necklace of coral I've seen all afloat
(Ere wrecked by old Time) on your grandmamma's throat;
Her hands, alike gazed on by dandies and boors,
I've seen her fold often as now you fold yours;
While crowds have around her at Ranelagh press'd,
Allured by the beauty of Grandmamma West.

Hold, Phoebe! thou archest of heart-stealing girls,
Thy hat, and thy cloak, and thy lace, and thy pearls,
May not be cast off, till thy painter shall trace
The raiment antique, and thy juvenile face,
With the ringlets and flounces that once gave a zest
To the now waning charms of your Grandmamma West.

'Tis done; now begone, and remember that Time,
By steps slow and sure is corroding your prime.
An aera shall come, spite of hopes and of fears,
When Phoebe shall be what she now but appears,
A tidy old woman arrayed in her best,
A counterfeit true of her Grandmamma West.





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