A Fine Penalty Poem by John Bannister Tabb

A Fine Penalty



He offered but a poor defence,
That advocate of mine;
And yet, despite the evidence,
The penalty was fine.


The greater mystery it is
The more we think upon it,
That 'tis the oldest style of Miss
That wants the youngest bonnet.


Nor is it levity of mind
That leads to such selection,
For 'tis the fruit we often find,
Of much
mature reflection.

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