Now bare to the beholder’s eye Your late denuded bindings lie, Subsiding slowly where they fell, A disinvested citadel;
- The obdurate corset, Cupid’s foe,
- The Dutchman’s breeches frilled below.
- Those that the lover notes to note,
- And white and crackling petticoat.
From these, that on the ground repose, Their lady lately re-arose; And laying by the lady’s name, A living woman re-became.
Of her, that from the public eye They do enclose and fortify, Now, lying scattered as they fell, An indiscreeter tale they tell:
Of that more soft and secret her Whose daylong fortresses they were, By fading warmth, by lingering print, These now discarded scabbards hint.
A twofold change the ladies know:
- First, in the morn the bugles blow,
- And they, with floral hues and scents,
- Man their beribboned battlements.
But let the stars appear, and they Shed inhumanities away; And from the changeling fashion see, Through comic and through sweet degree, In nature’s toilet unsurpassed, Forth leaps the laughing girl at last.