Now Laura moves along the joyous crowd,

Smiles in her eyes, and simpers on her lips;

To some she whispers, others speaks aloud;

To some she curtsies, and to some she dips,

Complains of warmth, and this complaint avowed,

Her lover brings the lemonade, she sips;

She then surveys, condemns, but pities still

Her dearest friends for being dressed so ill.