SOCIETY TROPHIES.

WELL, Tom, the Carnival is done.

Let's take a pipe and talk it over.

To germans, parties, balls, and fun

I've been a pretty constant rover.

Those favors hung across my door

Attest the way that I've been spending

My nights, for full a month or more, -

Alas! the jolly season's ending.

That violin so small and thin

I got from Lucy's fairy fingers, -

Ah me! how lightly did we spin,

And what romance around it lingers!

And there's a dainty silk rosette

I had from pretty Lillie Glover, -

She is indeed an arch coquette,

But don't suspect that I'm her lover.

And there are pipes and long cigars

With sugar-plums so neatly laden;

And here are gilt and silver stars,

Pinned on my coat by many a maiden.

But don't suppose that I'm in love,

Although just now it is the fashion;

My thoughts are soaring far above

To fame, - a nobler, deeper passion.

And yet methinks I did forget

One favor in this category, -

It is a sprig of mignonette,

Now withered and bereft of glory.

Of her who gave what shall I say?

The less perhaps will be the better,

For dreams of fame may pass away,

But I will nevermore forget her.

X.