Phenix Gazette

OLD AND NEW TIMES.
When my mother was a girl,
Some thirty years ago,
Young ladies then knew how to knit,
As well as how to sew.
Young ladies then could spin and weave,
Could bake, and brew, and sweep;
Could sing and play, could dance and paint,
And could a secret keep.
Young ladies then were beautiful
As any beauties now
Yet they could rake the new mown hay,
Or milk the brindled cow.
Young ladies then wore bonnets too,
And with them their own hair;
They made them from their gaudy straw,
And pretty, too, they were.
Young ladies then wore gowns with sleeves
That would just hold their arms;
And did not have as many yards
As acres in their farms.
Young ladies then oft fell in love,
And married, too the men;
While men, with willing hearts and true,
Loved them all back again.
Young ladies now can knit and sew,
Or read a pretty book—
Can sing and paint, and joke and quiz,
But cannot bear to cook.
Young ladies now can blithely spin
Of street yarn many a spool,
And weave a web of scandal too,
And dye it in the wool.
Young ladies now can bake their hair,
And brew their own Cologne;
In borrowed plumage often shine,
While they neglect their own.
And as to secrets, who would think
Fidelity a pearl?:
None but a modest little Miss,
Perchance a country girl
Young ladies now wear lovely curls
What pity they should buy them;
And then their bonnets, peay'ns! they fright
The beau that ventures nigh them.
Then as to gowns, I've heard it said
They'll hold a dozen men:
And if you once get in their sleeves,
You'll ne'er get out again.
Even love's changed from what it was—
Although true love is known:
'Tis wealth adds lustre to the cheek,
And melts the heart of stone.
Thus Time works wonders; young and old
Confess his magic power:
Beauty will fade—but Virtue proves
Pure gold in man's last hour.