By Thomas Hardy
"O 'Melia, my dear, this does everything crown!
Who could have supposed I should meet you in town?
And Whence such fair garments, such prosperity?"--"O didn't
you know I'd been ruined?" said she.
--You left us in tatters, without shoes or socks,
Tired of digging potatoes, and spudding up docks;
And now you've gay bracelets and bright feathers three!"
"Yes: that's how we dress when we're ruined," said she.
--"At home in the barton you said 'thee' and 'thou,'
And 'thik oon,' and 'theas oon,' and 't'other'; but now
Your talking quite fits 'ee for high compa-ny!"--
"Some polish is gained with one's ruin," said she.
--"Your hands were like paws then, your face blue and bleak
But now I'm bewitched by your delicate cheek,
And your little gloves fit as on any la-dy"--
"We never do work when we're ruined," said she.
--"You used to call home-life a hag-ridden dream,
And you'd sigh, and you'd sock; but at present you seem
To know not of megrims of melancho-ly!"--
"True. One's pretty lively when ruined," said she.
--"I wish I had feathers, a fine sweeping gown,
And a delicate face, and could strut about Town!"--My
dear--a raw country girl, such as you be,
Cannot quite expect that. You ain't ruined," said she.