Classic Poem

  A. “W HAT will I wear” when I do visit the Duke?
Why, black,—the colour of my fortunes,—black.
  B. Tush! thou shouldst go all gay and bridegroom-like;
Smiling in gold.
  C. The lady, sir, speaks well.
Men of a pampered lot care not to look
On aught that 's mournful. They recoil from woe,
As sickly natures from the sight of pain.
They want the healthy sinewy spirit, that makes
Endurance pleasant like to exercise.