)
From the Boulevards we saunter thro' many a street,
Crack jokes on the natives--mine, all very neat--
Leave the Signs of the Times to political fops,
And find _twice_ as much fun in the Signs of the Shops;--
_Here_, a Louis Dix-huit--_there_, a Martinmas goose,
(Much in vogue since your eagles are gone out of use)--
Henri Quatres in shoals, and of Gods a great many,
But Saints are the most on hard duty of any:--
St. TONY, who used all temptations to spurn,
_Here_ hangs o'er a beer-shop, and tempts in his turn;
While _there_ St. VENECIA[6] sits hemming and frilling her
Holy _mouchoir_ o'er the door of some milliner;--
Saint AUSTIN'S the "outward and visible sign
"Of an inward" cheap dinner, and pint of small wine;
While St. DENYS hangs out o'er some hatter of _ton_,
And possessing, good bishop, no head of his own,[7]
Takes an interest in Dandies, who've got--next to none!
Then we stare into shops--read the evening's _affiches_--
Or, if some, who're Lotharios in feeding, should wish
Just to flirt with a luncheon, (a devilish bad trick,
As it takes off the bloom of one's appetite, DICK.)
To the _Passage des_--what d'ye call't--_des Panoramas_[8]
We quicken our pace, and there heartily cram as
Seducing young _pates_, as ever could cozen
One out of one's appetite, down by the dozen.
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