Fashion

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                                                   A DAY OF FASHION.

Sung with the greatest Applause by Mr. C. TAYLOR, at Vauxhall Gardens : Written, composed, and respectfully inscribed to
                                          GEORGE ROGERS BARRETT, Esq., by Mr. W. T. PARKE.

IN London's gay circle where pleasures abound,
Away soon dull care makes his flight ;
Bach hour and each day is a merry-go-round,
Still changing from morning till night.
In fashion's bright sphere time never stands still,
They crow'd to the Op'ra or Play ;
And like roving bees of life's sweets take their fill,
While thus 'tis they make out the day.

(Spoken.)—In the morning, drop in at Christie's, to
see my Lord Squander sold off.—This, Ladies and
Gentlemen, is a portrait by Reynolds, and is consider-
ed to be his chef d'ouvre.—Bless me, says the Honor-
able Mrs. Squib, why that's the picture of Lady
Squander—My Lord's not going to sell that, I hope.—
Och ! never mind, Madam, cries Colonel O'Bother,
you know it's no uncommon thing, now-a-days, for a
Man of Fashion to part with his Wife.—Five pounds
is bid—Six pounds, in two places—Seven—Eight—
Nine pounds—Nobody bid more—Going for nine
pounds !—One of the most beautiful and accomplished
Ladies—Going for only nine pounds !

(Sung.)—And sure no delights are so gay and so clever,
'Tis London, dear London, for ever.
The morning amusements thus ended by five,
The parties now homewards repair ;
Make some calls, just to see if old friends are alive,
Drop a card, at the multitude stare.
Arriv'd, to the toilette my Lady's seen pressing,
Be quick, Betty, pray soon have done ;
And after three hours are expended in dressing,
Appears with scacre any clothes on.

(Spoken.)—Behold the party seated at the dinner-
table—Nine in the evening !—Pray, my dear Lady
Mary, was you at the Opera last night?—No, I was
not; my Lord was taken unwell, and I remained at
home to keep him company.—Lord! how unfashionable,
cries Mrs. Raccket—Well, for my part, I would not
have stay'd away from the Opera last night for all the
husbands in Christendom.—Oh, you should have heard
how divinely Signor Longuanti sung his Cavatina.—
Certainly persons of fashion would expire, if they had
not those dear Italians about them.—Pardon me,
Madam, says a truly noble English Duke, I think
they ought to expire, if, by giving their exclusive pa-
tronage to foreigners, they were to neglect the brilliant
talent possessed by those of their own country !

(Sung.)—And sure no delights are so gay and so clever,
'Tis London, dear London, for ever.
The dinner now ended, the coffee gone round,
They think how to finish the day ;
What place best to go to, all voices resound,
Vauxhall ! where all's sportive and gay.
The coaches all ready, the guests enter in,
They dash quick away, soon alight ;
See all ranks most cheerful, and sure 'tis no sin,
The eye, and the ear, to delight.

(Spoken.)—The gardens are thronged, the music
and singing enchanting, and the illuminations and
fire-works brilliant beyond description.—Waiter ! says
Mr. Deputy Gobble, where's my chicken?—Pray,
Pappa, says Miss, let them pull a chicken or two for
us, they are but a few shillings dearer than the others.—
Thank you, my dear, says the Deputy, I can pull
them myself, and save that money.—Ah ! Lady Canter,
cries Sir George Dash, do you sup here to-night?—
O dear no, Sir George, we are only come for a walk
after dinner, we are engaged to sup with Mrs. Allnight,
at six in the morning !—Waiter ! bring half a dozen
jellies.—Waiter ! Waiter !—Coming, Sir !—Bring an-
other dish of ham !—And, d'ye hear—Take care you
don't cut it too thick!—Too thick, Sir ! We have never
any complaints of that kind, I promise you !

(Sung.)—And sure no delights are so gay and so clever,
                'Tis London, dear London, for ever.

Published 24th August, 1813, by JAMES WHITTLE and RICHARD HOLMES LAURIE, No. 53, Fleet Street, London.

                                                          (The Music to be had of Mr. FENTUM, No. 78, Strand.)