Chapter 1410 of 1964 · 59 words · ~1 min read

LXVI.

His afternoons he passed in visits, luncheons, Lounging and boxing; and the twilight hour In riding round those vegetable puncheons Called "Parks," where there is neither fruit nor flower Enough to gratify a bee's slight munchings; But after all it is the only "bower"[597] (In Moore's phrase) where the fashionable fair Can form a slight acquaintance with fresh air.