My Very Particular Friend Poem by Maria Smith Abdy

Are you struck with her figure and face?
How lucky you happened to meet
With none of the gossipping race,
Who dwell in this horrible street!
They of slanderous hints never tire;

I
love to approve and commend,
And the lady you so much admire,
Is my
very
particular friend!

How charming she looks — her dark curls
Really float with a
natural
air;
And the beads might be taken for pearls,
That arc twined in that beautiful hair:
Then what tints her fair features o'erspread -
That she uses
white
paint some pretend;
But, believe me, she only wears
red

She's my
very
particular friend!

Then her voice, how divine it appears
While carolling: 'Rise gentle moon;'
Lord Crotchet lastnight stopped his ears,
And declared that she sung out of tune;
For
my
part, I think that her lay
Might to Malibran's sweetness pretend;
But people won't mind what
I
say —
I'm her
very
particular friend!

Then her writings — her exquisite rhyme
To posterity surely must reach;
(I wonder she finds so much time
With four little sisters to teach!)
A critic in Blackwood, indeed.
Abused the last poem she penned;
The article made my heart bleed —
She's my
very
particular friend!

Her brother dispatched with a sword,
His friend in a duel, last June;
And her cousin eloped from her lord,
With a handsome and whiskered dragoon:
Her father with duns is beset,
Yet continues to dash and to spend —
She's too good for so worthless a set —
She's my
very
particular friend!

All her chance of a portion is lost,
And I fear she'll be single for life;
Wise people
will
count up the cost
Of a gay and extravagant wife:
But tis odious to marry for pelf,
(Though the times are not likely to mend,)
She's a fortune besides in herself —
She's my
very
particular friend!

That she's somewhat sarcastic and pert,
It were useless and vain to deny;
She's a little too much of a flirt,
And a slattern when no one is by:
From her servants she constantly parts,
Before they have reached the year's end;
But her heart is the kindest of hearts —
She's my
very
particular friend!

Oh! never have pencil or pen,
A creature more exquisite traced;
That her style does not take with the men,
Proves a sad want of judgment and taste;
And if to the sketch I give now,
Some
flattering
touches I lend;
Do for partial affection allow —
She's my
very
particular friend!