To An Aged Cut-Up Poem by Franklin Pierce Adams

Horace: Book III, Ode 15

"Uxor pauperis Ibyci,
Tandem nequitiæ fige modum tuæ--"

IN CHLORIN


Dear Mrs. Ibycus, accept a little sound advice,
Your manners and your speech are overbold;
To chase around the sporty way you do is far from nice;
Believe me, darling, you are growing old.

Now Pholoë may fool around (she dances like a doe!)
A débutante has got to think of men;
But you were twenty-seven over thirty years ago--
You ought to be asleep at half-past ten.

O Chloris, cut the ragging and the roses and the rum--
Delete the drink, or better, chop the booze!
Go buy a skein of yarn and make the knitting needles hum,
And imitate the art of Sister Suse.