Her Veſt, with Flow'rs of Gold embroider'd o'er, / With Grief diſtreſs'd, the mournful Matron tore, / And a beſeeming Suit of gloomy Sable wore.
I seek the Vatican, and the palaces. I affect to be intoxicated with sights and suggestions, but I am not intoxicated.
As I said, I'm writing a fanfic. I need to know if anypony in particular ~doesn't~ want to be in it.
But in the form of its expression it exemplified that illusion of metropolitanism which is to my mind the veriest cockneyism in disguise, and which cannot but strike Americans as either ridiculous or offensive.
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