And there were the gentlemen, one and all, Friends and neighbors of Wingate Hall⁠— Old Judge Brooke from Little Vermilion With the rusty voice of a cracked horse-pistol And manners as stiff as a French cotillion. Huger Shepley and Wainscott Bristol, Hawky arrogant sons of anger Who rode like devils and fought like cocks And watched, with an ineffable languor Their spoilt youth tarnish a dicing-box. The Cazenove boys and the Cotter brothers, Pepperalls from Pepperall Ride. Cummings and Crowls and a dozen others, Every one with a name and a pride. Sallow young dandies in shirts with ruffles, Each could dance like a blowing feather, And each had the voice that Georgia muffles In the lazy honey of her May weather.