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FLY LEAVES. 
 
FLY LEAVES 
 
 DT 
 
 C. S. CALVERLET, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " VEKSEii AND TEANSLATIONS." 
 
 
 CAMBRIDGE: 
 DETGflTON, BELL, AND CO. 
 
 LONDON: GEORGE BELL AND SONS. 
 
 181)2. 
 
First Edition publislied March, 1872. 
 Reprinted July, 1872, 1873, 187G, 1877, 1880, 1882, 
 1883, 1884, 1885, 1886, 1887 (twice), 1889, 1890, 
 1892. 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 
 
 
 P8g« 
 
 ■i /rORNING 1 
 
 ,-VX Evening. 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 Shelter 
 
 
 
 
 6 
 
 In tub Gloaming .... 
 
 
 
 
 8 
 
 The Palace 
 
 
 
 
 13 
 
 Peace 
 
 
 
 
 17 
 
 The Arab 
 
 
 
 
 19 
 
 Lines on IIearino the Organ 
 
 
 
 
 22 
 
 Changed ... 
 
 
 
 
 29 
 
 First Love .... 
 
 
 
 
 32 
 
 Wanderers .... 
 
 
 
 
 36 
 
 Sad Memories . , . 
 
 
 
 
 39 
 
 Companions .... 
 
 
 
 
 45 
 
 Ballad . . . . , 
 
 
 
 
 43 
 
 Precious Stones . 
 
 
 
 
 61 
 
 Disaster 
 
 
 
 
 56 
 
 Contentment . , , 
 
 
 
 • 
 
 69 
 
 The Scuoolmastkb . , 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 63 
 
 Arcades Aubo . . . 
 
 
 
 • 
 
 66 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 
 
 
 I'age 
 
 Waiting .... 
 
 
 
 G9 
 
 I'lay . . . . 
 
 
 
 71 
 
 Love 
 
 
 
 74 
 
 Thoughts at a Eailway Station 
 
 
 
 78 
 
 On the Brink . , , 
 
 
 
 81 
 
 '• i'OREVEU" 
 
 
 
 86 
 
 Under the Trees 
 
 
 
 89 
 
 MOTHERnOOD .... 
 
 
 
 92 
 
 Mystery .... 
 
 
 
 95 
 
 Flight .... 
 
 
 
 99 
 
 On THE Beach , 
 
 
 
 104 
 
 5 Lovers, and a Keflection . 
 
 
 
 108 
 
 The Cock and the Bull , 
 
 
 113 
 
 An Examination Papbr . 
 
 
 1 
 
 I'^J 
 
MORNING. 
 
 "TT^IS the hour when white-horsed Day 
 
 -*■ Chases Night her mares away ; 
 When the Grates of Dawn (they say) 
 
 Phoebus opes : 
 Aiid I gather that the Queen 
 May be uniformly seen, 
 Should the weather be serene, 
 
 On the slopes. 
 
 When the ploughman, as he goes 
 Leatheni-gaitered o'er the snows, 
 From his hat and from his noso 
 Knocks the ice ; 
 
 B 
 
MOBNI^G. 
 
 And the panes are frosted o'er, 
 And the lawn is crisp and hoar, 
 As has been observed before 
 Once or twice. 
 
 When arrayed in breastplate red 
 Sings the robin, for his bread. 
 On the elmtree that hath shed 
 
 Every leaf; 
 While, within, the frost benumbs 
 The still sleepy schoolboy's thumbs, 
 And in consequence his sums 
 
 Cyome to grief. 
 
 But when breakfast-time hath come, 
 And he's crunching crust and crumb, 
 He'll no longer look a glum 
 Little dunce : 
 
MORNIXa. 
 
 But be brisk as bees that settle 
 On a summer rose's petal : 
 Wherefore, Pollj, put the kettle 
 On at once. 
 
EVENING. 
 
 XT' ATE ! if e'er thy light foot lingers 
 ^ ^~ On the lawn, when up the fells 
 Steals the Dark, and fairy fingers 
 
 Close nnseen the pimpernels : 
 "When, his thighs with sweetness laden. 
 
 From the mr.idow comes the bee, 
 And the lover and the maiden 
 
 Stand beneath the trystiug tree : — 
 
 Lingers on, till stars unnumber'd 
 Tremble in the breeze-swept tarn 
 
 And the bat that all day slumber'd 
 Flits about the lonely barn ; 
 
EVENING. 
 
 A-iid the shapes that shrink from garish 
 Noon are peopling cairn and lea ; 
 
 And thy sire is almost bearish 
 If kept waiting for his tea : — 
 
 And the screech-owl scares the peasant 
 
 As he skirts some churchyard drear ; 
 And the goblins whisper pleasant 
 
 Tales in Miss Rossetti's ear ; 
 Importuning her in strangest, 
 
 Sweetest tones to buy their fruits : — 
 be careful that thou changes t, 
 
 On returning home, thy boots. 
 
SHELTER. 
 
 1 ) Y the wide lake's margin I mark'd her lie — 
 -■-^ The wide, ■weird lake where the alders sigh — 
 A young fair thing, with a shy, soft eye ; 
 
 And I deem'd that her thoughts had flown 
 To her home, and her brethren, and sisters dear, 
 As she lay there watching the dark, deep mere, 
 All motionless, all alone. 
 
 Then I heard a noise, as of men and boys, 
 
 And a boisterous troop drew nigh. 
 Whither now will retreat those fairy feet ? 
 
 Where hide till the storm pass by ? 
 
SHEL TER. 7 
 
 One glance — the wild glance of a hunted thing- 
 She cast behind her ; she gave one spring ; 
 And there follow'd a splash and a broadening riug 
 On the lake where the alders sigh. 
 
 She had gone from the ken of ungentle men ! 
 
 Yet scarce did I mourn for that ; 
 For I knew she was safe in her own home then, 
 And, the danger past, would appear again. 
 
 For she was a water-rat. 
 
IN THE GLOAMING. 
 
 T N the Gloaming to be roaming, where the 
 crested waves are foaming, 
 And the shy mermaidens combing locks that 
 ripple to their feet ; 
 When the Gloaming is, I never made the ghost 
 of an endeavour 
 To discover — but whatever were the hour, it 
 would be sweet. 
 
 To their feet," I say, for Leech's sketch indis- 
 putably teaches 
 That the mermaids of our beaches do not end in 
 
 ugly tails, 
 
IN THE GLOAMING. 9 
 
 Nor have homes among the corals ; but are shod 
 with neat balmorals, 
 An arrangement no one quarrels with, as many 
 might with scales. 
 
 Sweet to roam beneath a shady cliff, of course with 
 some young lady, 
 Lalage, Neasra, Haidee, or Elaine, or Mary 
 Ann : 
 Love, you dear delusive dream, you ! Very sweet 
 your victims deem you. 
 When, heard only by the seamew, they talk 
 all the stuff one can. 
 
 Sweet to haste, a licensed lover, to Miss Pinkerton 
 the glover, 
 Having managed to discover what is dear 
 Neaera's " size " : 
 
10 IN THE GLOAMING. 
 
 P'raps to touch that wrist so slender, as your tiny 
 gift you tender, 
 And to read you're no offender, in those laugh- 
 ing hazel eyes. 
 
 Then to hear her call you " Harry," when she 
 makes you fetch and carry — 
 O young men about to marry, what a blessed 
 thing it is ! 
 To be photograph' d — together — cased in pretty 
 Russia leather — 
 Hear her gravely doubting whether they have 
 spoilt your honest phiz ! 
 
 Then to bring your plighted fair one first a ring 
 — a rich and rare one — 
 Next a bracelet, if she'll wear one, and a heap 
 of things beside ; 
 
IN THE GLOAMING. 11 
 
 And serenely bending o'er her, to inquire if it 
 would bore her 
 To say when her own adorer may aspire to call 
 her bride ! 
 
 Then, the days of courtship over, with your wife 
 to start for Dover 
 Or Dieppe — and live in clover evermore, what- 
 e'er befalls : 
 For I've read in many a novel that, unless they've 
 souls that grovel. 
 Polks prefer in fact a hovel to your dreary 
 marble halls : 
 
 To sit, happy married lovers ; Phillis trifling with 
 a plover's 
 Egg, while Corydon uncovers with a grace tlie 
 Sally Lunn, 
 
12 IN THE GLOAMING. 
 
 Or dissects the lucky pheasant — ^that, I think, were 
 
 passing pleasant ; 
 As I sit alone at present, dreaming darkly of a 
 Dun. 
 
THE PALACE. 
 
 ' I ^HEY come, they come, with fife and diuni, 
 A.nd gleaming pikes and glancing banners 
 Though the eyes flash, the lips are dumb ; 
 To talk in rank would not be manners. 
 Onward they stride, as Britons can ; 
 The ladies following in the Van. 
 
 Who, who be these that tramp in threes 
 Through sumptuous Piccadilly, through 
 
 The roaring Strand, and stand at ease 
 At last 'neath shadowy Waterloo ? 
 
 Some gallant Guild, I ween, are they ; 
 
 Taking their annual holiday. 
 
14 THE PALACE. 
 
 To catch the destin'd train — to pay 
 
 Their willing fares, and plunge within it — 
 
 Is, as in old Romaunt they say, 
 
 With them the work of half-a-minute. 
 
 Then off they're whirl'd, with songs and shouting, 
 
 To cedared Sydenham for their outing. 
 
 I mark'd them light, with faces bright 
 
 As pansies or a new coin'd florin. 
 And up the sunless stair take flight, 
 
 Close-pack'd as rabbits in a warren. 
 Honour the Brave, who in tliat stress 
 Still trod not upon Beauty's dress ! 
 
 Kerchief in hand I saw them stand ; 
 
 In every kerchief lurk'd a lunch ; 
 V7hen they unfurl'd them, it was grand 
 
 To watch bronzed men and maidens crunch 
 The sounding celery-stick, or ram 
 The knife into the blushing ham> 
 
THE rALACE. Ifi 
 
 Hash'd the bold fork through pies of pork ; 
 
 O'er hard-boil' d eggs the saltspoon shook ; 
 Leapt from its lair the playful cork : 
 
 Yet some there were, to whom the brook 
 Seem'd sweetest beverage, and for meat 
 They chose the red root of the beet. 
 
 Then many a song, some rather long, 
 Came quivering up from girlish throats ; 
 
 And one young man he came out strong, 
 And gave " The Wolf " without his notes. 
 
 While they who knew not song or ballad 
 
 Still munch'd, approvingly, their salad. 
 
 But ah ! what bard (jould sing how hard, 
 
 The artless banquet o'er, they ran 
 Down the soft slope with daisies starr'd 
 
 And kingcups ! onward, maid with man, 
 They flew, to scale the breezy swing. 
 Or court frank kisses in the ring. 
 
le THE PALACE. 
 
 Such are the sylvan scenes that thrill 
 
 This heart ! The lawns, the happy shade, 
 
 Where matrons, whom the sunbeams giill, 
 Stir with slow spoon their lemonade ; 
 
 And maidens flirt (no extra charge) 
 
 In comfort at the fountain's marge ! 
 
 Others may praise the " grand displays" 
 
 Where " fiery arch," " cascade," and " comety'' 
 
 Set the whole garden in a " blaze " ! 
 Far, at such times, may I be from it ; 
 
 Though then the public may be " lost 
 
 In wonder " at a trifling cost. 
 
 Fann'd by the breeze, to puff at ease 
 
 My faithful pipe is all I crave : 
 And if folks rave about the " trees 
 
 Lit up by fireworks," let them rave. 
 Your monster fetes, I like not these ; 
 Though they bring grist to the lessees. 
 
PEACE. 
 
 A STUDY. 
 
 T T E stood, a wom-out City clerk — 
 
 Who'd toil'd, and seen no holiday, 
 For forty years from dawn to dark — 
 Alone beside Caermarthen Bay. 
 
 He felt the salt spray on his lips ; 
 
 Heard children's voices on the sands ; 
 Up the sun's path he saw the ships 
 
 Sail on and on to other lands ; 
 
 And laugh'd aloud. Each sight and sound 
 To him was joy too deep for tears ; 
 
 He sat him on the beach, and bound 
 A blue bandana round his ears 
 C 
 
18 PEA CE. 
 
 And thouglit how, posted near liif door, 
 His own green door on Camden Hill, 
 
 Two bands at least, most likely mo -e. 
 Were mingling at tlieir own swe*>t will 
 
 Verdi with Yance. And at the thought 
 He langh'd again, and softly drew 
 
 That Morning Herald that he'd bought 
 
 Forth from his breast, and read it throngh. 
 
THE ARAB. 
 
 /^\ N, on, my brown Arab, away, away ! 
 
 Tlion liast trotted o'er many a mile to-day, 
 And I trow riglit meagre liath been thy fare 
 Since they roused thee at dawn from thy straw- 
 piled lair. 
 To tread with those echoless unshod feet 
 Yon weltering flats in the noontide heat, 
 Where no palmtree proffers a kindly shade 
 And the eye never rests on a cool grass blade ; 
 And lank is thy flank, and thy frequent cough 
 Oh ! it goes to my heart — but away, friend, off! 
 
 And yet, ah ! what sculptor who saw thee stand, 
 As thou standest now, on thy Native Strand, 
 
to THE ARAB. 
 
 With the wild wind ruffling tliino iincomb'd hair. 
 And thj nostril npturn'd to the od'rous air, 
 Would not woo theo to pause till his skill might 
 
 trace 
 At leisure the lines of that eager face ; 
 The collarless neck and the coal-black paws 
 And the bit grasp'd tight in the massive jaws ; 
 The delicate curve of the legs, that seem 
 Too slight for their burden — and, 0, the gleam 
 Of that eye, so sombre and yet so gay ! 
 Still away, my lithe Arab, once more away ! 
 
 Nay, tempt me not, Arab, again to stay ; 
 Since I crave neither Echo nor Fan to-day. 
 For thy liand is not Echoless — there they are 
 Fun, Glowworm, and Echo, and Evening Star: 
 And thou hintest withal that thou fain would'st 
 shine, 
 
THE ARAB. 21 
 
 As I con them, these bulgy old boots of mme. 
 But I shriBk from thee, Arab! Thou eat'at 
 
 eel-pie. 
 Thou evermore hast at least one black eye ; 
 There is brass on thy brow, and thy swarthy hues 
 Are due not to nature but handling shoes ; 
 And the bit in thy mouth, I regret to sec. 
 Is a bit of tobacco-pipe — Flee, child, flee ! 
 
LINES ON HEARING THE ORGAN 
 
 /"^ RINDER, who serenely grindest 
 
 At my door the Hundredth Psalm, 
 Till thou ultimately findest 
 Pence in thy unwashen palm : 
 
 Grinder, jocund-hearted Grinder, 
 Near whom Barbary's uimblo son, 
 
 Poised with skill upon his hinder 
 Paws, accepts the proffered bun : 
 
 Dearly do I love thy grinding ; 
 
 Joy to meet thee on thy road 
 Where thou prowlest through the blinding 
 
 Dust with that stupendous load, 
 
LINES ON HEARING THE ORGAN. 23 
 
 'N'eatli the baleful star of Sirius, 
 When the postmen slowlier jog, 
 
 And the ox becomes delirious, 
 And the muzzle decks the dog. 
 
 Tell me bj what art thou bindest 
 On thy feet those ancient shoon : 
 
 Tell me, Grinder, if thou griudest 
 Always, always out of tune. 
 
 Tell me if, as thou art buckling 
 On thy straps with eager claws, 
 
 Thou forecastest, inly chnckling, 
 All the rage that thou wilt cause. 
 
 Tell me if at all thou mindest 
 When folks flee, as if on wings, 
 
 From thee as at ease thou gi-indest : 
 Tell me fifty thousand things. 
 
24 LINES ON HEARING 
 
 Grinder, gentle-hearted Grinder ! 
 
 Ruffians who led evil lives, 
 Soothed by thy sweet strains, are kinder 
 
 To their bullocks and their wives 
 
 Children, when they see thy supple 
 Form approach, are out like shots ; 
 
 Half-a-bar sets several couple 
 Waltzing in convenient spots ; 
 
 Not with clumsy Jacks or Georges : 
 Unprofaned by grasp cf man. 
 
 Maidens speed those simple orgies, 
 Betsey Jane with Betsey Ann. 
 
 As they love thee in St. Giles's 
 
 TLou art loved in Grosvenor Square : 
 
 None of those engaging smiles is 
 Unreciprocated there. 
 
THE ORGAN. 25 
 
 Often, ere yet thou hast hammer'd 
 Thi'ough thy foui' delicious aii's, 
 
 Corns are flung thee by enamour'd 
 Housemaids upon area stairs : 
 
 E'en the ambrosial-whisker'd flunkey 
 Eyes thy boots and thine unkempt 
 
 Beard and melancholy monkey 
 More in pity than contempt. 
 
 Far from England, in the sunny 
 South, where Anio leaps in foam, 
 
 Thou wast rear'd, till lack of money 
 Drew thee from thy vineclad home : 
 
 And thy mate, the sinewy Jocko, 
 
 From Brazil or Afric came. 
 Land of simoom and sirocco — 
 
 And he seems extremely tamo. 
 
26 LINES ON HEABING 
 
 There he quaff'd the undefiled 
 
 Spi'ing, or hung with apelike glee, 
 
 By his teeth or tail or eyelid, 
 To the slippery mango- tree: 
 
 There he woo'd and won a dusky 
 Bride, of instincts like his own ; 
 
 Talk'd of love till he Avas husky 
 In a tongue to us unknown : 
 
 Side by side 'twas thcu's to ravage 
 
 The potato ground, or cut 
 Down the unsuspecting savage 
 
 With the well-aim'd cocoa-nut : — 
 
 Till the miscreant Stranger tore him 
 Screaming from his blue-faced fair ; 
 
 And they flung strange raiment o'er him. 
 Raiment which he could not bear : 
 
FHE ORGAN, 27 
 
 Sevei''d from the pure embraces 
 
 Of his children and his spouse, 
 He must ride fantastic races 
 
 Mounted on reluctant sows : 
 
 But the heart of wistful Jocko 
 Still was with his ancient flame 
 
 In the nutgroves nf Morocco ; 
 Or if not it's all the same. 
 
 Grinder, winsome grinsome Grinder ! 
 
 They who see thee and whose soul 
 Melts not at thy charms, are blinder 
 
 Than a trebly-bandaged mole : 
 
 They to whom thy curt (yet clever) 
 
 Talk, thy music and thine ape, 
 Seem not to be joys for ever, 
 
 Are but brutes in human shnpe. 
 
28 LINES ON HEABING THE ORGAN, 
 
 'Tis not that thy mien is stately 
 'Tia not that thy tones are soft ; 
 
 'Tis not that I care so greatly 
 For the same thing play'd so oft : 
 
 But I've heard mankind abuse thee ; 
 
 And perhaps it's rather strange, 
 But I thought that I would choose thee 
 
 For encomium, as a change. 
 
CHANGED. 
 
 T KNOW not why my soul is rack'd : 
 Why I ne'er smile as was my wont: 
 I only know that, as a fact, 
 
 I don't. 
 I used to roam o'er glen and glade 
 
 Buoyant and blithe as other folk : 
 And not unfrequently I made 
 A joke. 
 
 A minstrel's fire within me bum'd. 
 
 I'd sing, as one whose heart must break, 
 Lay upon lay : I nearly leam'd 
 To shake. 
 
30 CHANGED. 
 
 All day I sang ; of love, of fame, 
 
 Of fights our fathers fought of yore, 
 Until the thing almost became 
 A bore. 
 
 I cannot sing the old songs now ! 
 
 It is not that I deem them low ; 
 'Tis that I can't remember how 
 
 They go. 
 I could not range the hills till high 
 
 Above me stood the summer moon : 
 And as to dancing, I could fly 
 As soon. 
 
 The sports, to which with boyish gleo 
 I sprang erewhilc, attract no more ; 
 Although I am but sixty-three 
 Or four. 
 
CHANGED. 81 
 
 Nay, worse than that, I've socm'd of late 
 To shrink from happy boyhood — boys 
 Have grown so noisy, and I hate 
 A noise. 
 
 They fright me, when the beech is green. 
 
 By swarming np its stem for eggs : 
 They drive their horrid hoops between 
 
 My legs : — 
 It's idle to repine, I know ; 
 
 I'll tell yoTi what 111 do instead : 
 I'll drink my arrowroot, and go 
 To bed. 
 
FIRST LOVE. 
 
 /^^ MY earliest love, who, ere I mimber'd 
 
 Ten sweet summers, made my bosom thrill ! 
 Will a swallow — or a swift, or some bird — 
 Fly to her and say, I love her still ? 
 
 Say my life's a desert drear and arid. 
 
 To its one green spot I aye recur : 
 Never, never — although three times married — 
 
 Have I cared a jot for aught but her. 
 
 No, mine own ! though early forced to leave you. 
 Still my heart was there where first we met ; 
 
 In those " Lodgings with an ample sea-view," 
 Which were, forty years ago, " To Let." 
 
Fin ST LOVE. 33 
 
 There I saw her first, our landlord's oldest 
 Little daughter. On a thing so fair 
 
 Thou, Sun, — who (so they say) bcholdest 
 Everything, — hast gazed, I tell thee, ne'er. 
 
 There she sat — so near me, yet remoter 
 Than a star — a blue-eyed bashful imp : 
 
 On her lap she held a happy bloater, 
 
 'Twixt her lips a yet more happy shrimp. 
 
 And I loved her, and our troth we plighted 
 On the morrow by the shingly shore : 
 
 In a fortnight to be disunited 
 By a bitter fate for evermore. 
 
 my own, my beautiful, my blue-eyed ! 
 
 To be young once more, and bite my thumb 
 At the world and all its cares with you, I'd 
 
 Give DO inconsiderable sum. 
 
84 FIRST LOVE. 
 
 Hand in hand we tramp'd the golden seaweed, 
 Soon as o'er the gray clifF peep'd the dawn : 
 
 Side hj side, when came the hour for tea, we'd 
 Cranch the mottled shrimp and hairy prawn :- 
 
 Has she wedded some gigantic shrimper, 
 That sweet mite with whom I loved to play ? 
 
 Is she girt with babes that whine and whimper, 
 That bright being who was always gay ? 
 
 Tes — she has at least a dozen wee things ! 
 
 Yes — I see her darning corduroys, 
 Scouring floors, and setting out the tea-things, 
 
 For a howling herd of hungry boys, 
 
 In a home that reeks of tar and sperm-oil ! 
 
 But at intervals she thinks, I know, 
 Of those days which we, afar from turmoil, 
 
 Spent together forty years ago. 
 
rinST LOVE. 35 
 
 my earliest love, still unforgotten, 
 
 With your downcast eyes of dreamy blue I 
 
 Never, somehow, could 1 seem to cotton 
 To another as I did to you I 
 
WANDERERS. 
 
 A S o'er the hill wo roam'd at will, 
 My dog and I together, 
 We mark'd a chaise, by two bright bays 
 Slow-moved along the heather : 
 
 Two bays arch neck'd, with tails erect 
 And gold upon their blinkers ; 
 
 And by their side an ass I spied ; 
 It was a travelling tinker's. 
 
 The chaise went by, nor anght cared I ; 
 
 Such things are not in my way : 
 £ tum'd me to the tinker, who 
 
 Was loafing down a by-way : 
 
WANDERERS. 37 
 
 1 ask'd him wliere lie lived — a stare 
 
 "Was all I got in answer, 
 As on he trudged : I rightly judged 
 
 The stare said, *' Where I can, sir." 
 
 I ask'd him if he'd take a Avhiff 
 
 Of 'bacco ; ho acceded ; 
 He grew communicative too, 
 
 (A pipe was all he needed,) 
 Till of the tinker's life, I think, 
 
 I knew as much as he did. 
 
 " I loiter down by thorp and town ; 
 
 For any job I'm willing; 
 Take here and there a dusty brown, 
 
 And here and there a shilling. 
 
 " I deal in every ware in turn, 
 I've rings for buddin' Sally 
 
 That sparkle like those eyes of hcr'n ; 
 I've liquor for the valet. 
 
3l) WANDERERS. 
 
 " I steal from tli' parson's strawberry-plots, 
 
 I liide by th' squire's covers ; 
 I teach tlie sweet young housemaids what^s 
 
 The art of trapping lovers. 
 
 " The things I've done 'neath moon and stars 
 
 Have got me into messes : 
 I've seen the sky through prison bars. 
 
 I've torn up prison dresses : 
 
 " I've sat, I'vesigh'd, I've gloom'd, I'veglancea 
 
 With envy at the swallows 
 That through the window slid, and danced 
 
 (Quite happy) round the gallows ; 
 
 " But out again I come, and show 
 
 My face nor care a stiver 
 For trades are brisk and trades are slow, 
 
 But mine goes on for ever." 
 
 Thus ou he prattled like a babbling brook. 
 Then I, » The sun hath slipt behind the hill, 
 And my aunt Vivian dines at half-past six." 
 So in all love we parted ; I to the Hall, 
 They to the village. It was noised next noon 
 That chickens had been miss'd at Syllabub Farm 
 
T 
 
 SAD MEMORIES. 
 
 ^HE Y tell me I am beautiful : they praise my 
 
 silken hair, 
 My little feet that silently slip on from stair to 
 
 stair : 
 They praise my pretty trustful face and innocent 
 
 grey eye; 
 Fond hands caress me oftentimes, yet would that 
 
 I might die ! 
 
 Why was I born to be abhorr'd of man and bird 
 
 and beast ? 
 The bulfinch marks me stealing by, and straight 
 
 his song hath ceased ; 
 
40 SAD MEMORIES. 
 
 The shrewmouse eyes me slmdderiugly, then flees ; 
 
 and, worse than that, 
 The housedog he fleea after me — why was I bom 
 
 a cat ? / 
 
 Men prize the heartless hound who quits dry-^ed 
 
 his native land ; ' 
 
 Who wags a mercenary tail and licks a tyrant 
 
 hand. ' 
 
 The leal true cat they prize not, that if e'er com- 
 
 pell'd to roam 
 Still flies, when let out of the bag, precipitately 
 
 home. 
 
 They call me cruel. Do I know if mouse or song- 
 bird feels ? 
 
 I only know they make me light and salutary 
 meals : 
 
SAD MEMORIES. 41 
 
 And if, as 'tis my nature to, ere I devour I tease 
 
 'em, 
 Why should a low-bred gardener's boy pursue me 
 
 with a besom ? 
 
 Should china fall or chandeliers, or anything but 
 stocks — 
 
 Nay stocks, when they're in flowerpots — the cat 
 expects hard knocks : 
 
 Should ever anything be missed — milk, coals, um- 
 brellas, brandy — 
 
 The cat's pitch'd into with a boot or any thing 
 that's handy. 
 
 " 1 remember, I remember," how one night I 
 
 " fleeted by," 
 And gain'd the blessed tiles and gazed into the 
 
 cold clear sky. 
 
42 SAD MEMORIES. 
 
 " I remember, I remember, how my little lorerfi 
 
 came;" 
 And there, beneath the crescent moon, play'd many 
 
 a little garae. 
 
 They fought — by good St. Catharine, 'twas a fear- 
 some sight to see 
 
 The coal-black crest, the glowei'ing orbs, of one 
 gigantic He. 
 
 Like bow by some tall bowman bent at Hastings 
 or Poictiers, 
 
 His huge back curved, till none observed a vestige 
 of his ears : 
 
 He stood, an ebon crescent, flouting that ivory 
 
 moon ; 
 Thon raised the pibroch of his race, the Song 
 
 without a Tune ; 
 
SAD MEMOEIES. 43 
 
 Gleara'd his white teeth, his mammoth tail waved 
 
 darkly to and fro, 
 As with one complex yell he burst, all claws, 
 
 upon the foo. 
 
 It thrills me now, that final Miaow — that weird 
 
 unearthly din : 
 Lone maidens heard it far away, and leap'd out 
 
 of their skin. 
 A potboy from his den o'erhead peep'd with a 
 
 scared wan face ; 
 Then sent a random brickbat down, which knock'd 
 
 me into space. 
 
 Nine days I fell, or thereabouts : and, had we not 
 
 nine lives, 
 [ wis I ne'er had seen again thy sausage-shop, 
 
 St. Ivca ! 
 
44 SAD MEMORIES. 
 
 Had I, as some cats have, nine tails, how gladly 1 
 
 ■would lick 
 The hand, and person generally, of him who heaved 
 
 that brick ! 
 
 For mo they fill the milkbowl up, and cull the 
 
 choice sardine: 
 But ah ! I nevermore shall be the cat I once 
 
 have been ! 
 The memories of that fatal night they haunt me 
 
 even now : 
 In dreams I see that rampant He, and tremble at 
 
 that Miaow. 
 
COMPANIONS. 
 
 A TALE OP A GRANDFATHER, 
 Br THE Author op " Dewy Memories, " &c. 
 
 T KNOW not of what we ponder'd 
 
 Or made pretty pretence to talk, 
 As, her hand witliia mine, we wander'd 
 Tow'rd the pool by the limetree walk, 
 While the dew fell in showers from the passion 
 flowers 
 And the blush-rose bent on her stalk. 
 
 I cannot recall her figure : 
 
 Was it regal as Juno's own ? 
 Or only a trifle bigger 
 
 Than the elves who surround the throne 
 Of the Faery Queen, and are seen, I ween, 
 
 By mortals in dreams alone? 
 
46 COMPANIONS. 
 
 What her eyes were like, I know not : 
 
 Perhaps they were blurr'd with tears ; 
 And perhaps ia your skies there glow not 
 (On the contrary) clearer spheres. 
 No ! as to her eyes I am just as wise 
 As yon or the cat, my dears. 
 
 Her teeth, 1 presume, were " pearly" : 
 But which was she, brunette or blonde ? 
 
 Her hair, was it quaiatly curly. 
 Or as straight as a beadle's wand ? 
 That I fail'd to remark ; — it was rather dark 
 And shadowy round the pond. 
 
 Then the hand that reposed so snugly 
 In mine — was it plump or spare ? 
 
 Was the countenance fair or ugly ? 
 Nay, children, you have me there ! 
 My eyes were p'raps bluiT'd ; and besides I'd heard 
 That it's horribly rude to stare. 
 
COMPANIONS. 47 
 
 And I — was I brusque and surly ? 
 
 Or oppressively bland and fond ? 
 Was I partial to rising early ? 
 Or why did we twain abscond, 
 All breakfastless too, from the public view 
 To prowl by a misty pond ? 
 
 What pass'd, what was felt or spoken — 
 
 Whether anything pass'd at all — 
 And whether the heart was broken 
 
 That beat under that shelt'ring shawl — 
 (If shawl she had on, which I doubt) — has gone, 
 Yes, gone from me past recall. 
 
 Was I haply the lady's suitor ? 
 
 Or her uncle ? I can't make out — 
 Ask your governess, dears, or tutor. 
 For myself, I'm In hopeless doubt 
 As to why we were there, who on earth we were, 
 And what this is all about. 
 
BALLAD. 
 
 *' I ''HE anld wife sat at lier ivied door, 
 
 (Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese') 
 A thing she had frequently done before ; 
 
 And her spectacles lay on her apron'd knees. 
 
 The piper he piped on the hill-top high, 
 (Butter and eggs and aj^ound of clieese) 
 
 Till the cow said " I die," and the goose ask'd 
 "Why?" 
 And the dog said nothing, but search'd for fleas. 
 
 The farmer he strode through the square farmyard; 
 
 (Butter and eggs and a pound of clieese) 
 His last brew of ale was a trifle hard— 
 
 The connexion of which with the plot one sees. 
 
BALLAD. 49 
 
 Tho farmer's daughter liath frank blue ejes ; 
 
 (Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese) 
 She hears the rooks caw in the windj skies, 
 
 As she sits at her lattice and shells her peas. 
 
 The farmer's daughter hath ripe red lips ; 
 
 (Butter and eggs and a pound of cJieese) 
 If jou try to appx'oach her, away she skips 
 
 Over tables and chairs with apparent ease. 
 
 The farmer's daughier hath soft brown hair ; 
 
 (B utter and eggs and a iiound of cheese') 
 And I met with a ballad, I can't say where, 
 
 Which wholly consisted of lines like these. 
 
 Paet II. 
 She sat with her hands 'neath her dimpled cheeks, 
 
 [Butter and eggs and abound of cheese) 
 And spake not a word. While a lady speaks 
 There is hope, but she didn't even sneeze. 
 
 B 
 
60 BALLAD. 
 
 She sat, with her hands 'neath her crimson cheeks 
 (Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese) 
 
 She gave up mending her father's breeks, 
 And let the cat roll in her new chemise. 
 
 She sat, with her hands 'neath her burning cheeks, 
 (Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese) 
 
 And gazed at the piper for thirteen weeks ; 
 Then she follow'd him out o'er the misty leas. 
 
 Her sheep follow'd her, as their tails did them. 
 
 (Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese) 
 And this song is consider'd a perfect gem, 
 
 And as to the meaning, it's what you please. 
 
PRECIOUS STONES. 
 
 AN INCIDENT IN MODERN HISTORT. 
 
 TV /r Y Cherrystones ! I prize them, 
 No tongue can tell how much ! 
 Each ladj caller eyes them, 
 
 And madly longs to touch ! 
 At eve I lift them down, I look 
 
 Upon them, and I cry ; 
 Recalling how my Prince ' partook' 
 
 (Sweet word !) of cherry-pie ! 
 
 To me it was an Era 
 
 In life, that Dejeuner ! 
 They ate, they sipp'd Madeira 
 
 Much in the usual way. 
 
62 PRECIOUS STONES. 
 
 Many a soft item there would be, 
 No doubt, upon the carte : 
 
 But one made life a beavca to mo : 
 It was the cherry-tart. 
 
 Lightly the spoonfuls enter'd 
 
 That mouth on which the gaze 
 Of ten fair girls was centred 
 
 In rapturous amaze. 
 Soon that august assemblage clear'd 
 
 The dish ; and — as they ate — 
 The stones, all coyly, re-appear'd 
 
 On each illustrious plate. 
 
 And when His Royal Highness 
 "Withdrew to take the air, 
 
 Waiving our natural shyness, 
 We swoop'd upon his chair. 
 
PRECIOUS STONES. 6S 
 
 Policemen at oui' garments clutcli'd: 
 
 We mock'd those feeble powers ; 
 And soon the treasures that had tonch'd 
 
 Exalted lips were ours ! 
 
 One large one — at the moment 
 
 It seem'd almost divine^ 
 Was got by that Miss Beaumont : 
 
 And three, three, are mine ! 
 Yes ! the three stones that rest beneath 
 
 Glass, on that plain deal shelf, 
 Stranger, once dallied with the teeth 
 
 Of Royalty itself. 
 
 Let Parliament abolish 
 
 Churches and States and Thrones 
 With reverent hand I'll polish 
 
 Still, still my Cherrystones ! 
 
M PRECIOUS STONES. 
 
 A clod — a piece of orange-peei 
 
 An end of a cigar — 
 Once trod on by a Princely heel, 
 
 How beautiful they are ! 
 
 Years since, I climb'd Saint Michael 
 
 His Mount : — ^you'll all go there 
 Of course, and those who like'll 
 
 Sit in Saint Michael's Chair : 
 For there I saw, within a frame. 
 
 The pen — heavens ! the pen — 
 With which a Duke had sign'd his name, 
 
 And other gentlemen. 
 
 " Great among geese," I faltered, 
 *' Is she who grew that quill ! '* 
 
 And, Deathless Bird, nnalter'd 
 Is mine opinion still. 
 
PliECIODS STONES. 55 
 
 Yet sometimes, as I view my three 
 Stones witli a thoughtful brow, 
 
 I think there possibly might be 
 E'en greater geese than thon. 
 
DISASTER. 
 
 "T~^WAS ever thus from diildhood's hour ! 
 
 Mj fondest liopes would not decay : 
 I never loved a tree or flower 
 
 Which was the first to fade away ! 
 The garden, where I used to delve 
 
 Short-frock'd, still yields me pinks in plenty : 
 The peartree that I climb'd at twelve 
 
 I see still blossoming, at twenty. 
 
 I never nursed a dear gazelle ; 
 
 But I was given a parroquet— 
 (How I did nurse him if unwell !) 
 
 He's imbecile, but lingers yet. 
 
VIS AST Eli. B7 
 
 He's grceo, Avith an enchanting toft; 
 
 He melts me with his small black eye: 
 He'd look inimitable stuflTd, 
 
 And knows it — but he will not die ! 
 
 I had a kitten — I was rich 
 
 In pets — but all too soon my kitten 
 Became a full-sized cat, by which 
 
 I've more than once been scratch'd and bitten. 
 And when for sleep her limbs she curl'd 
 
 One day beside her untouch'd plateful, 
 And glided calmly from the world, 
 
 I freely own that I was grateful. 
 
 And then I bought a dog — a queen ! 
 
 Ah Tiny, dear departing pug ! 
 She lives, but she is past sixteen 
 
 And scarce can crawl across the rug. 
 
68 DISASTER. 
 
 I loved her beautiful and kind ; 
 
 Deliglited in her pert Bow-wow : 
 But now slie snaps if you don't mindj 
 
 'Twere lunacy to love her now. 
 
 I used to think, should e'er mishap 
 
 Betide my crumple-visaged Ti, 
 In shape of prowling thief, or trap, 
 
 Or coarse bull-terrier — I should die. 
 But ah ! disasters have their use ; 
 
 And life might e'en be too sunshiny : 
 Nor would I make myself a goose, 
 
 If some big dog should swallow Tiny. 
 
CONTENTMENT. 
 
 AFTER THE MANNER OP HORACE. 
 
 I j'RIEND, there be tliey on whom mishap 
 
 Or never or so rarely comes, 
 That, when they think thereof, they snap 
 Derisive thumbs : 
 
 And there be they who lightly lose 
 
 Their all, yet feel no aching void ; 
 Should aught annoy them, they refuse 
 To be annoy'd : 
 
 And fain would I be e'en as these ! 
 
 Life is with such all beer and skittles ; 
 They are not difficult to pleaso 
 About their victuals 
 
60 CONTENTMENT. 
 
 The trout, the grouse, the early pea, 
 
 By such, if there, are freely taken ; 
 If not, they munch with equal glee 
 Their bit of bacon : 
 
 And when they wax a little gay 
 
 And chaff the public after luncheon, 
 If they're confronted with a stray 
 Policeman's truncheon. 
 
 They gaze thereat with outstretch'd necks. 
 
 And laughter which no threats can smother. 
 And tell the horror-stricken X 
 That he's another. 
 
 In snowtime if they cross a spot 
 
 Where unsuspected boys have slid, 
 They fall not down — though they would not 
 Mind if they did : 
 
CONTENTMENT. 81 
 
 When the spring rosebud -which they wear 
 Breaks short and tumbles from its stem, 
 No thought of being angry e'er 
 Dawns upon them ; 
 
 Though 'twas Jemima's hand that placed, 
 (As well you ween) at evening's hour, 
 In the loved button-hole that chaste 
 And cherish'd flower. 
 
 And when they travel, if they find 
 
 That they have left theii' pocket-compass 
 Or Murray or thick boots behind, 
 They raise no rumpus, 
 
 But plod serenely on without : 
 
 Knowing it's better to endure 
 The evil which beyond all doubt 
 You cannot cure. 
 
62 CONTENTMENT. 
 
 When for that early train they're late, 
 
 They do not make their woes the text 
 Of sermons in the Times, but wait 
 On for the next ; 
 
 And jump inside, and only grin 
 
 Should it appear that that dry wag, 
 The guard, omitted to put in 
 Their carpet-bag. 
 
THE SCHOOLMASTEll 
 
 ABROAD WITH HIS SON. 
 
 /'~\ WHAT harper could worthily harp It, 
 
 Mine Edward ! this wide-stretching wold 
 
 (Look out xoold) with its wonderful carpet 
 Of emerald, purple, and gold ! 
 
 Look well at it — also look sharp, it 
 
 Is getting so cold. 
 
 The purple is heather (erica) ; 
 
 The yellow, gorse — call'd sometimes " whin." 
 Cruel boys on its prickles might spike a 
 
 Green beetle as if on a pin. 
 You may roll in it, if you would like a 
 Few holes in your skin. 
 
C4 THE SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD 
 
 You wouldn't ? Then think of how kind you 
 Should be to the insects who crave 
 
 Tour compassion — and then, look behind you 
 At yon barley-oars ! Don't they look brave 
 
 As they undulate — (undulate, mind you, 
 From unda, a ivave). 
 
 The noise of those sheep-bells, how faint it 
 Sounds here — (on account of our height) ! 
 
 And this hillock itself — who could paint it, 
 With its changes of shadow and light ? 
 
 Ts it not — (never, Eddy, say " ain't it") — • 
 A marvellous sight ? 
 
 Then yon desolate eerie morasses, 
 
 The haunts of the snipe and the hern — 
 
 (I shall question the two upper classes 
 On aquatiles, when we return) — 
 
 Why, I see on them absolute masses 
 Ofjilix or fern. 
 
WJTH HIS SOI^. 66 
 
 How it interests e'en a beginner 
 
 (Or tiro) like dear little Ned ! 
 Is lie listening ? As I am a sinner 
 
 He's asleep — he is wagging his head. 
 Wake up ! I'll go home to my dinner, 
 And you to your bed. 
 
 The boundless inefiable prairie ; 
 
 The splendour of mountain and lake 
 With their hues that seem ever to yary ; 
 
 The mighty pine-forests which shake 
 In the wind, and in which the unwary 
 May tread on a snake ; 
 
 And this wold with its heathery garment— 
 
 Are themes undeniably great. 
 But — although there is not any harm in't — 
 
 It's perhaps little good to dilate 
 On their charms to a dull little varmint 
 Of seven or eight. 
 
ARCADES AMBO. 
 
 \ T 7H Y are ye wandering aje 'fcwixt porch 
 and porch, 
 Thou and thy fellow — when tlje pale stars fade 
 At dawn, and when the glowworm lights her 
 torch, 
 O Beadle of the Burlington Arcade ? 
 — Who asketh why the Beautiful was made ? 
 A wan cloud drifting o'er the waste of blue, 
 
 The thistledown that floats above the glade, 
 The lilac-blooms of April — frar to view, 
 A.nd naught but fair are these ; and such, I ween, 
 are you. 
 
ARCADES AM BO. 67 
 
 Yes, yo arc beautiful. Tho young street boys 
 
 Joy in your beauty. Arc yo there to bar 
 Their pathway to that paradise of toys, 
 
 Ribbons and rings ? Who'll blame yo if yo 
 
 are ? 
 Surely no shrill and clattering crowd should 
 mar 
 The dim aisle's stillness, where in noon's mid- 
 glow 
 Trip fair-hair'd gh'ls to boot-shop or bazaar ; 
 Where, at soft eve, serenely to and fro 
 The sweet boy-graduates walk, nor deem the 
 pastime slow. 
 
 And ! forgive mo, Beadles, if I paid 
 
 Scant tribute to your worth, when first ye 
 stood 
 Eefore me robed in broadcloth and brocade 
 
68 ARCADES AM BO. 
 
 And all the Bameless grace of Beadlehood ! 
 I would not smile at ye — if smile I could 
 Now as erewhile, ere I had learn'd to sigh : 
 Ah, no ! I know ye beautiful and good, 
 And evermore will pause as I pass by. 
 And gaze, and gazing think, how base a thing 
 am I. 
 
WAITING. 
 
 ♦' /~\ COME, come," the mother pray'd 
 
 And hush'd her babe : "let me behold 
 Once more thy stately form array'd 
 Like autumn woods in green and gold ! 
 
 " I see thy brethren come and go ; 
 
 Thy peers in stature, and in hue 
 Thy rivals. Some like monarchs glow 
 
 With richest purple : some are blue 
 
 *' As skies that tempt the swallow back ; 
 
 Or red as, seen o'er wintry seas. 
 The star of storm ; or barr'd with black 
 
 And yellow, like the April bees. 
 
70 WAITING. 
 
 " Come they and go ! I heed not, I. 
 
 Yet others hail their advent, cling 
 All trustful to their side, and fly 
 
 Safe in their gentle piloting 
 
 " To happy homes on heath or hill. 
 By park or river. Still I wait 
 
 And peer into the darkness : still 
 Thou com'st not — I am desolate. 
 
 '•* Hush ! hark ! I see a towering form ! 
 
 From the dim distance slowly roll'd 
 It rocks like lilies in a storm, 
 
 And 0, its hues are green and gold: 
 
 " It comes, it comes ! Ah rest is sweet, 
 And there is rest, my babe, for us ! " 
 
 She ceased, as at her very feet 
 
 Stopp'd the St. John's "Wood omnibus. 
 
PLAY. 
 
 T) LAT, play, -wliile as yet it is day : 
 
 While the SAveet sunlight is warm on the brae ! 
 Hark to the lark singing lay upon lay, 
 While the brown squirrel eats nuts on the spray 
 And in the apple-leaves chatters the jay ! 
 Play, play, even as they ! 
 What though the cowslips ye pluck will decay, 
 What though the grass will be presently hay ? 
 What though the noise that ye make should dismay 
 Old Mrs. Clutterbuck over the way ? 
 Play, play, for your locks will grow gray ; 
 Kven the mai-bles ye sport with are clay. 
 
72 PLAY. 
 
 Plaj, ay in the crowded higliway : 
 Was it not made for you ? Yea, my lad, yea. 
 True that the babes you were bid to convey 
 Home may fall out or be stolen or stray ; 
 True that the tip-cat you toss about may 
 Strike an old gentleman, cause him to sway, 
 Stumble, and p'raps be run o'er by a dray : 
 Still why delay ? Play, my son, play ! 
 Barclay and Perkins, not you, have to pay. 
 
 Play, play, your sonatas in A, 
 Heedless of what your next neighbour may say ! 
 Dance and be gay as a faun or a fay, 
 Sing like the lad in the boat on the bay ; 
 Sing, play — if your neighbours inveigh 
 Feebly against you, they're lunatics, eh ? 
 Bang, twang, clatter and clang. 
 Strum, thrum, upon fiddle and drum ; 
 
PLAY. 73 
 
 Neigh, bray, simply obey 
 All your sweet impulses, stop not or stay ! 
 Rattle the " bones," hit a tinbottom'd tray 
 Hard with the fireshovel, hammer away ! 
 Is not your neighbour your natural prey ? 
 Should he confound you, it's only in play 
 
LOVE. 
 
 r~^ ANST tlion love me, lady ? 
 
 I've not loarn'd to woo : 
 Thou art on the shady 
 
 Side of sixty too. 
 Still I love thee dearly ! 
 
 Thou hast lands and pelf: 
 But I love thee merely 
 
 Merely for thyself. 
 
 Wilt thou love me, fairest ? 
 
 Though thou art not fair ; 
 And I think thou wearest 
 
 Somcone-elso's hair. 
 
LOVE. 76 
 
 Thou conld'st love, tliough, dearly : 
 
 And, as I am told. 
 Thou art very nearly 
 
 Worth thy weight, in gold. 
 
 Dost thou love me, sweet one ? 
 
 Tell me that thou dost ! 
 Women fairly beat one, 
 
 But I think thou must. 
 Thou art loved so dearly : 
 
 I am plain, but then 
 Thou (to speak sincerely) 
 
 Art as plain again. 
 
 Love me, bashful fairy ! 
 
 I've an empty purse : 
 And I've " moods," which vary ; 
 
 !Mostly for the worse. 
 
76 LOVE. 
 
 Still, I love thee dearly: 
 Though I make (I feel) 
 
 uove a little queerly, 
 I'm as true as steel. 
 
 Love me, swear to love me 
 
 (As, you know, they do) 
 By yon heaven, above me 
 
 And its changeless blue. 
 Love me, lady, dearly. 
 
 If you'll be so good ; 
 Though I don't see clearly 
 
 On what ground yon should. 
 
 Love me — ah or love me 
 Not, but be my bride ! 
 
 Do not simply shove me 
 (So to speak) aside I 
 
LOVE. ?7 
 
 P'raps it would be dearly 
 Purchased at the price ; 
 
 But a hundred yearly 
 Would be very nice. 
 
THOUGHTS AT A RAILWAY STATION. 
 
 "nr^IS but a box, of modest deal ; 
 Directed to no matter where ; 
 Yei down my cheek the teardrops steal — 
 Yes, I am blubbering like a seal ; 
 For on it is this mute appeal, 
 « With care." 
 
 I am a stern cold man, and range 
 
 Apart : but those vague words " With care'' 
 Wake yearnings in me sweet as strange : 
 Drawn from my moral Moated Grange, 
 I feel I rather like the change 
 Of air. 
 
THOUGHTS AT A RAILWAY STATION. 7! 
 
 Hast tbou ne'er seen roiigli pointsmen spy 
 
 Some simple English pkrase — " With care''* 
 Or " Tliis side uppermost " — and cry 
 Like cliildi'en ? No ? N^o more have I. 
 Yet deem not him whose eyes are dry 
 A bear. 
 
 But ah ! what treasure hides beneath 
 
 That lid so much the worse for wear ? 
 A ring perhaps — a rosy wreath — 
 A photograph by Vernon Heath — 
 Some matron's temporary teeth 
 Or hair ! 
 
 Perhaps some seaman, in Pera 
 
 Or Ind, hath stow'd herein a rare 
 Cargo of birds' eggs for his Sue ; 
 "With many a tow that he'll be true, 
 And many a hint that she is too, 
 Too fair. 
 
60 THOUGHTS AT A RAILWAY STATION. 
 
 Perhaps — but wherefore vainly pry 
 
 Into the page that's folded there ? 
 I shall be better by and by : 
 The porters, as I sit and sigh, 
 Pass and repass — I wonder why 
 They stare ! 
 
ON THE BRINK. 
 
 T WATCH'D her as slie stoop'd to pluck 
 
 A wildflower in her hair to twine ; 
 And wish'd that it had been my luck 
 To call her mine. 
 
 Anon I heard her rate with mad 
 
 Mad words her babe within its cot ; 
 And felt particnlarly glad 
 That it had not. 
 
 I knew (such subtle brains have men) 
 
 That she was uttering what she shouldn't ; 
 And thought that I would chide, and then 
 I thought I wouldn't : 
 
82 ON THL BRINK. 
 
 Who could have gazed upon that face, 
 
 Those pouting coral lips, and chided ? 
 A Rhadamanthus, in my place, 
 Had done as I did : 
 
 For ire wherewith our bosoms glow 
 
 Is chain'd there oft by Beauty's spell ; 
 And, more than that, I did not know 
 The widow well. 
 
 So the harsh phrase pass'd tinreproved. 
 
 Still mute — (0 brothers, was it sin ?)— 
 I drank, unutterably moved, 
 Her beauty in : 
 
 And to myself I murmur'd low, 
 
 As on her upturn'd face and dress 
 The moonlight fell, " "Would she say No, 
 By chance, or Yes ?" 
 
ON THE BRINK. 83 
 
 She stood so calm, so like a glaost 
 
 Betwixt mo and that magic moon, 
 That I already was almost 
 A finish'd coon. 
 
 But when she canght adroitly up 
 
 And soothed with smiles her little daughter; 
 And gaye it, if I'm right, a sup 
 Of barley-water ; 
 
 And, crooning still the strange sweet lore 
 Which only mothers' tongues can utter, 
 Snow'd with deft hand tho sugar o'er 
 Its bread-and-butter ; 
 
 And kiss'd it clingingly — (Ah, why 
 
 Don't women do these things in private ?) — 
 I felt that if I lost her, I 
 Should not survive it; 
 
84 ON THE BRINK. 
 
 And from my moutli tlie words nigh flew — 
 
 The past, the future, I forgat 'em : 
 " Oh ! if you'd kiss me as you do 
 That thankless atom ! " 
 
 But this thought came ere yet I spake, 
 
 And froze the sentence on ray lips : 
 " They err, who marry wives that make 
 Those little slips." 
 
 It came like some familiar rhyme. 
 Some copy to my boyhood set ; 
 Anfl that's perhaps the reason I'm 
 Unmarried yet. 
 
 Would she have own'd how pleased she was, 
 
 And told her love with Avidow's pride ? 
 I never found out that, because 
 I never tried. 
 
ON THE BRINK. 85 
 
 Be kind to babes and beasts and birds : 
 
 Hearts may be hard, though lips are coral ; 
 A.nd angry words are angry words : 
 And that's the moraL 
 
« FOREVER." 
 
 T7 REVER ; 'tis a Bingle word ! 
 
 Our rude forefathers dccm'd it two ; 
 Can you imagine so absurd 
 A view ? 
 
 Forever ! What abysms of woe 
 
 The word reveals, what frenzy, what 
 Dfespau- ! For ever (printed so 
 Did not. 
 
 It looks, ah me ! how trite and tame ! 
 
 It fails to sadden or appal 
 Or solace — it is not the same 
 At all. ■ 
 
"FOREVER." 87 
 
 thou to whom it first occurr'd 
 
 To solder the disjoin'd, and dower 
 Thy native language with a word 
 Of power : 
 
 We bless thee ! Whether far or near 
 Thy dwelling, whether dark or fair 
 Thy kingly brow, is neither here 
 Nor there. 
 
 But in men's hearts shall be thy throne. 
 
 While the great pulse of England beats : 
 Thou coiner of a word unknown 
 To Keats ! 
 
 And nevermore must printer do 
 As men did longago ; but run 
 " For " into " ever," bidding two 
 Be oue^ 
 
88 *' forever:' 
 
 Forever ! passion-fraught, it tlirows 
 
 O'er the dim page a gloom, a glamour 
 It's sweet, it's strange ; and I suppose 
 It's grammar. 
 
 Forever ! 'Tis a single word ! 
 
 And yet our fathers deem'd it two : 
 Nor am I confident they err'd ; 
 Are you ? 
 
UNDER THE TREES. 
 
 " T TNDER the trees !" Who but agrees 
 
 That there is magic ia •words such as these ? 
 Promptly one sees shake in the breeze 
 Stately lime-avenues haunted of bees : 
 Where, looking far over buttercupp'd leas, 
 Lads and " fair shes" (that is Byron, and he's 
 An authority) lie very much at their ease ; 
 Taking their teas, or their duck and green peas, 
 Or, if they prefer it, their plain bread and cheese : 
 Not objecting at all though it's rather a squeeze 
 And the glass is, I daresay, at 80 degrees. 
 Some get up glees, and are mad about Ries 
 And Sainton, and Tamberlik's thrilling high Cs ; 
 
90 UNDER THE TREES. 
 
 Or if painters, hold forth upon Hunt and Maclise, 
 And the tone and the breadth of that landscape 
 
 of Lee's ; 
 Or if learned, on nodes and the moon's apogees, 
 Or, if serious, on something of AKHB's, 
 Or the latest attempt to convert the Chaldees ; 
 Or in short about all things, from earthquakes to 
 
 fleas. 
 Some sit in twos or (less frequently) threes, 
 With their innocent lambswool or book on their 
 
 knees, 
 And talk, and enact, any nonsense you please. 
 As they gaze into eyes that are blue as the seas ; 
 And you hear an occasional " Harry, don't tease " 
 From the sweetest of lips in the softest of keys. 
 And other remarks, which to me are Chinese. 
 And fast the time flees ; till a ladylike sneeze. 
 Or a portly papa's more elaborate wheozCj 
 
UNDER THE TREES. 91 
 
 Makes liliss Tabitha seize on her brown muffatees, 
 And announce as a fact that it's going to freeze, 
 And that young people ought to attend to their Ps 
 And their Qs, and not court every form of disease : 
 Then Tommy eats up the three last ratafias, 
 And pretty Louise wraps her robe de cerise 
 Round a bosom as tender as Widow Machrec's, 
 And (in spite of the pleas of her lorn vis-a-vis) 
 Goes to wrap up her uncle — a patient of Skey's, 
 Who is prone to catch chills, like all old 
 
 Bengalese : — 
 But at bedtime I trust he'll remember to grease 
 The bridge of his nose, and preserve his rupees 
 From the premature clutch of his fond legatees • 
 Or at least have no fees to pay any !M. D. s 
 For the cold his niece caught, sitting under the 
 
 Tree?. 
 
MOTHERHOOD. 
 
 O HE laid it where the sunbeams fall 
 TJnscann'd upon the broken wall. 
 Without a tear, without a groan, 
 She laid it near a mighty stone, 
 Which some rude swain had haply cast 
 Thither in sport, long ages past. 
 And Time with mosses had o'erlaid, 
 And fenced with many a tall grassblade, 
 And all about bid roses bloom 
 And violets shed their soft perfume. 
 There, in its cool and quiet bed, 
 She set her burden down and fled : 
 Nor flung, all eager to escape, 
 One glance upon the perfect shape 
 That lay, still warm and fresh and fail", 
 But motionless and soundless there. 
 
MOTHERHOOD. 93 
 
 No human eye had mark'd her pass 
 Across the linden-shadow'd grass 
 Ere yet the minster clock chimed seven : 
 Only the innocent birds of heaven — 
 The magpie, and the rook whose nest 
 Swings as the elmtree waves his crest — 
 And the lithe cricket, and the hoar 
 And huge-limb'd hoimd that guards the door, 
 Look'd on when, as a summer wind 
 That, passing, leaves no trace behind, 
 All unapparell'd, barefoot all, 
 She ran to that old ruin'd wall, 
 To leave upon the chill dank earth 
 (For ah ! she never knew its worth) 
 'Mid hemlock rank, and fern, and ling, 
 And dews of night, that precious thing ! 
 
 And there it might have lain forlorn 
 From morn till eve, from eve to mom : 
 
94 MOTHERHOOD. 
 
 But that, by some wild impnlse led, 
 The mother, ere she turn'd and fled. 
 One moment stood erect and high ; 
 Then pour'd into the silent sky 
 A cry so jubilant, so strange. 
 That Alice — as she strove to range 
 Her rebel ringlets at her glass — 
 Sprang np and gazed across the grass ; 
 Shook back those curls so fair to see, 
 Clapp'd her soft hands in childish glee ; 
 And shriek'd — her sweet face all aglow. 
 
 Her very limbs with rapture shaking — 
 ** My hen has laid an eg^, I know ; 
 
 " And only hear the noise she's making t ** 
 
MYSTERY. 
 
 T KNOW not if in others' ejes 
 
 She seem'd almost divine ; 
 But far beyond a donbt it lies 
 That she did not in mine. 
 
 Each common stone on which she trod 
 
 I did not deem a pearl : 
 Nay it is not a little odd 
 
 How I abhorr'd that girl. 
 
 We met at balls and picnics oft, 
 Or on a drawingroom stair ; 
 
 My aunt invariably cough'd 
 To warn me she was there : 
 
96 MYSTERY. 
 
 At croquet I was bid remark 
 How queenly was her pose, 
 
 As with stem glee she drew the dark 
 Blue ball beneath her toes, 
 
 And made the Red fly many a foot : 
 Then calmly she would stoop, 
 
 Smiling an angel smile, to put 
 A partner through his hoop. 
 
 At archery I was made obserye 
 That others aim'd more near. 
 
 But none so tenderly could curve 
 The elbow round the ear : 
 
 Or if we rode, perhaps she did 
 Pull sharply at the curb ; 
 
 But then the way in which she slid 
 From horsphack was superb ! 
 
MYSTERY. 97 
 
 She'd throw off odes, again, whose flow 
 And fire were more than Sapphic ; 
 
 Her voice was sweet, and very low ; 
 Her singing quite seraphic : 
 
 She was a seraph, lacking wings. 
 
 That much I freely own. 
 But, it is one of those queer things 
 
 Whose cause is all unknown — 
 
 (Such are the wasp, the household fly, 
 
 The shapes that crawl and curl 
 By men called centipedes) — that I 
 
 Simply abhorred that girl. 
 
 * * If! 
 
 Ko doubt some mystery underlies 
 
 All things which are and which are not: 
 And 'tis the function of the Wise 
 
 Not to expound to us what is what, 
 
 H 
 
98 MYSTERY 
 
 But let his consciousness play round 
 The matter, and at ease evolve 
 
 The problem, shallow or profound, 
 
 Which our poor wits have fail'd to solve, 
 
 Then tell us blandly we are fools ; 
 
 Whereof we were aware before : 
 That truth they taught us at the schools, 
 
 And p'raps (who knows ?) a little more. 
 
 — But why did we two disagree ? 
 
 Our tastes, it may be, did not dovetail : 
 All I know is, we ne'er shall be 
 
 Hero and heroine of a love-tale. 
 
FLIGHT. 
 
 /^ MEMORY ! that which I gave thcc 
 
 To guard in thy garner yestreen — 
 Little deeming thou e'er could'st behave thee 
 
 Thus basely — ^hath gone from thee clean ! 
 Gone, fled, as ere autumn is ended 
 
 The yellow leaves flee from the oak — 
 I have lost it for ever, my splendid 
 Original joke. 
 
 What was it ? I know I was brushing 
 My hair when the notion occurred : 
 
 I know that I felt myself blushing 
 
 As I thought, *' How supremely absurd 1 
 
100 FLIGHT. 
 
 " How they'll hammer on floor and on table 
 
 " As its drollery dawns on them — how 
 " They will quote it" — I wish I were able 
 To quote it just now. 
 
 I had thought to lead up conversation 
 To the subject — it's easily done — 
 
 Then let off, as an airy creation 
 Of the moment, that masterly pun. 
 
 Let it off, with a flash like a rocket's ; 
 In the midst of a dazzled conclave, 
 
 Where I sat, with my hands in my pockets, 
 The only one grave. 
 
 I had fancied young Tifcterton's chuckles, 
 And old Bottleby's hearty guffaws 
 
 As he drove at my ribs with his knuckles, 
 His mode of expressing applause : 
 
FLIGHT. 101 
 
 While Jean Boltleby — queenly Miss Janet^ 
 
 Drew her handkerchief hastily out, 
 In fits at my slyness — what can it 
 Have all been about ? 
 
 I know 'twas the happiest, quaintest 
 
 Combination of pathos and fun : 
 But I've got no idea — the faintest — 
 
 Of what was the actual pun. 
 I think it was somehow connected 
 
 With something I'd recently read — 
 Or heard — or perhaps recollected 
 On going to bed. 
 
 What had I been reading ? The Standard : 
 
 « 
 
 " Double Bigamy ;" " Speech of the Mayor." 
 And later — eh ? yes ! I meandered 
 Through some chapters of Vanity Fair. 
 
102 FLIGHT. 
 
 How it fuses the grave with, the festive ! 
 
 Yet e'en there, there is nothing so fine — 
 So playfully, subtly suggestive — 
 
 As that joke of mine. 
 
 Did it hinge npon " partiug asunder ?" 
 No, I don't part my hair with my brush. 
 
 Was the point of it " hair ? " Now T wonder ! 
 Stop a bit — I shall think of it — ^hush ! 
 
 There's /tore, a wild animal — Stuff ! 
 
 It was something a deal more recondite : 
 
 Of that I am certain enough ; 
 
 And of nothing beyond it. 
 
 Hair — locks ! There are probably many 
 Good things to be said about those. 
 
 Give me time — that's the best guess of any — 
 " Lock" has several meanings, one knows. 
 
 Iron locks — iron-gray locks — a '* deadlock " — 
 That would set up an everyday wit: 
 
FLIGHT. 103 
 
 ITien of coxirse there's the obvious " wedlock ; " 
 But that wasn't it 
 
 No ! mine was a joke for the ages ; 
 
 Full of intricate meaning and pith ; 
 A feast for your scholars and sages — 
 
 How it would have rejoiced Sidney Smith ! 
 'Tis such thoughts that ennoble a mortal ; 
 
 And, singling him out from the herd, 
 Fling wide immortality's portal — 
 
 But what was the word ? 
 
 Ah me ! 'tis a bootless endeavour. 
 
 As the flight of a bird of the air 
 Is the flight of a joke — you will never 
 
 See the same one again, you may swear. 
 'Twas my firstborn, and how I prized it ! 
 
 My darling, my ti'easure, my own ! 
 This brain and none other devised it — 
 
 And now it has flown. 
 
ON THE BEACH. 
 
 LINES BY A PRIVATE TUTOR. 
 
 T T 7 HEN the young Augustus Edward 
 Has reluctantly gone bedward 
 (He's the urcliin I am privileged to teach), 
 
 From my left-hand waistcoat pocket 
 
 1 extract a batter'd locket 
 And I commune with it, walking on the beach. 
 
 1 had often yearn'd for something 
 
 That would love me, e'en a dumb thing ; 
 
 But such happiness seem'd always out of reach: 
 Little boys are off like arrows 
 With their little spades and barrows, 
 
 When they see me bearing down upon the beach ; 
 
ON THE BEACH. 106 
 
 And althougli I'm rather handsome, 
 
 Tiny babes, when I wonld dance 'em 
 On my arm, set up so horrible a screech 
 
 That I pitch them to their nurses 
 
 "With (I fear me) mutter'd curses, 
 And resume my lucubrations on the beach. 
 
 And the rabbits won't come nigh me, 
 
 And the gulls observe and fly me, 
 And I doubt, upon my honour, if a leech 
 
 Would stick on me as on others, 
 
 And I know if I had brothers 
 They would cut me when we met upon the beach. 
 
 So at last I bought this trinket. 
 
 For (although I love to think it) 
 'Twasn't given me, with a pretty little speech : 
 
 No ! I bought it of a pedlar, 
 
 Brown and wizen'd as a medlar. 
 Who was hawking odds and ends about the beach. 
 
106 ON THE BEACH, 
 
 Bat I've managed, very nearly, 
 
 To believe that I was dearly 
 Loved by Somebody, who (blushing like a peach) 
 
 Flung it o'er me saying, " Wear it 
 
 For my sake " — and I declare, it 
 Seldom strikes me that I bought it on the beach. 
 
 I can see myself revealing 
 
 Unsuspected depths of feeling. 
 As, in tones that half upbraid and half beseech, 
 
 I aver with what delight I 
 
 Would give anything — my right eye— 
 For a souvenir of our stroll upon the beach. 
 
 ! that eye that never glisten'd 
 
 And that voice to which I've listen' d 
 But in fancy, how I dote upon them each ! 
 
 How regardless what o'clock it 
 
 Is, I pore upon that locket 
 Which does not contain her portrait, on the beach ! 
 
ON THE BEACH, 107 
 
 As if something were inside 
 
 I laboriously hide it, 
 And a rather pretty sermon you might preach 
 
 Upon Fantasy, selecting 
 
 For your " instance " the affecting 
 Tale of me and my proceedings on the beach. 
 
 I depict her, ah, how charming ! 
 
 I portray myself alarming 
 Her by swearing I would " mount the deadly breach," 
 
 Or engage in any scrimmage 
 
 For a glimpse of her sweet image. 
 Or her shadow, or her footprint on the beach. 
 
 And I'm ever ever seeing 
 
 My imaginary Being, 
 And I'd rather that my marrowbones should bleach 
 
 In the winds, than that a cruel 
 
 Fate should snatch from me the jewel 
 Which I bought for one and sixpence on the beach. 
 
LOVERS, AND A REFLECTION". 
 
 T N moss-prankt dells wliicli the sunbeams flatten 
 (And heaven it knoweth what that may mean r 
 Meaning, however, is no great matter) 
 
 Where woods are a- tremble, with rifts atweeu ; 
 
 Thro' God's own heather we wonn'd together, 
 I and my Willie (0 love my love) : 
 
 r need hardly remark it was glorious weather, 
 And flitterbats waver'd alow, above : 
 
 Boats were curtseying, rising, bowing, 
 (Boats in that climate are so polite), 
 
 And sands were a ribbon of green endowing, 
 And the sundazzle on bark and bight I 
 
LOVERS, AND A REFLECTION. 109 
 
 Thro' the rare red heather we danced together, 
 (0 love my Willie !) and smelt for flowers : 
 
 I must mention again it was gorgeous weather, 
 Rhymes are so scarce in this world of ours : — 
 
 By rises that flush'd with their purple favours, 
 Thro' becks that brattled o'er grasses sheen, 
 
 We walked and waded, we two young shavers. 
 Thanking our stars we were both so green. 
 
 We journeyed in parallels, I and Willie, 
 In fortunate parallels ! Butterflies, 
 
 Eid in weltering shadows of dafl'odilly 
 Or marjoram, kept making peacock eyes : 
 
 Songbirds darted about, some inky 
 
 As coal, some snowy (I ween) as curds ; 
 
 Or rosy as pinks, or as roses pinky — 
 
 They reck of no eerie To-come, those birds ! 
 
no LOVERS, AND A REFLECTION. 
 
 But they skim over bents wliicli the millstream 
 washes, 
 
 Or hang in the lift 'neath a white cloud's hem ; 
 They need no parasols, no goloshes ; 
 
 And good Mrs. Trimmer she feedeth them. 
 
 Then we thrid God's cowslips (as erst His heather) 
 That endowed the wan grass with their golden 
 blooms ; 
 
 And snapt — (it was perfectly charming weather) — 
 Our fingers at Fate and her goddess -glooms : 
 
 And Willie 'gan sing (0, his notes were fluty ; 
 Wafts fluttered them out to the white- wing'd 
 sea) — 
 Somethiag [made up of rhymes that have done 
 much duty, 
 tlhymes (better to put it) of "ancientry:" 
 
LOVERS, AND A REFLECTION. Ill 
 
 Bowers of flowers encounter'd showers 
 In "William's carol — (0 love my Willie !) 
 
 Then lie bade sorrow borrow from blithe to-morrow 
 I quite forget what — say a daffodilly ; 
 
 A nest in a hollow, " with buds to follow," 
 I think occTirred next in his nimble strain ; 
 
 And clay that was *' kneaden" of course in Eden — 
 A rhyme most noyel, I do maintain : 
 
 Mists, bones, the singer himself, love-stories. 
 And all least furlable things got *' furled ;" 
 
 Not with any design to conceal their " glories," 
 But simply and solely to rhyme with " world." 
 
 if billows and pillows and hours and flowers, 
 And all the brave rhymes of an elder day, 
 
112 LOVERS. AND A REFLECTION, 
 
 Could bo furled together, this genial weather, 
 
 And carted, or carried on " wafts " away, 
 Nor ever again trotted out — ah me ! 
 How much fewer volumes of verse there'd be J 
 
THE COCK AND THE BULL. 
 
 X/'OU sec this pebble-stono ? It's a thing 1 
 
 bought 
 Of a bit of a chit of a boy i' the mid o' the day — 
 I like to dock the smaller parts-o'-speech, 
 As we curtail the already cur-tail'd cur 
 (You catch the paronomasia, play 'po' words ?) 
 Did, rather, i' the pre-Landseerian days. 
 Well, to my muttons. I purchased the concern, 
 And clapt it i' my poke, having given for same 
 By way o' chop, swop, barter or exchange — 
 * Chop' was my snickering dandiprat's own term — 
 Oneshillingand fourpcnce, current coin o'therealm. 
 0-n-e one and f-o-u-r four 
 
 Pence, one and fourpcnce — you are with me, sir f— 
 I 
 
114 THE COCK AND THE BULL. 
 
 What hour it skills not : ten or eleven o' the clock. 
 
 One day (and what a roaring day it was 
 
 Go shop or sight-see — bar a spit o' I'ain !) 
 
 In February, eight'Cen sixty nine, 
 
 Alexandrina Victoria, Fidei 
 
 Hm — hm — how runs the jargon ? being on throne. 
 
 Such, sir, are all the facts, succinctly put, 
 The basis or substratum — what you will — 
 Of the impending eighty thousand lines. 
 " Not much in 'em either," quoth perhaps simple 
 
 Hodge. 
 But there's a superstructure. Wait a bit. 
 
 Mark first the rationale of the thing : 
 
 Hear logic rivel and levigate the deed. 
 
 That shilling — and for matter o' that, the pence— 
 
 I had o' course upo' me — wi' me say — 
 
 (MocunCs, the Latin, make a note o' that) 
 
THE COCK AND THE BULL. 115 
 
 When I popp'd pen i' stand, scratcli'd ear, wiped 
 
 snont, 
 (Let everybody wipe his own himself) 
 Sniff* d — tch ! — at snuffbox ; tumbled up, he-heed, 
 Haw-haw'd (not hee-haw'd, that's another guess 
 
 thing:) 
 Then fumbled at, and stumbled out of, door, 
 I shoved the timber ope wi' my omoplat ; 
 Ajnd in vestibulo, i' the lobby to-wit, 
 (lacobi Facciolati's rendering, sir,) 
 Donn'd galligaskins, antigropeloes. 
 And so forth ; and, complete with hat and gloves, 
 One on and one a-dangle i' my hand, 
 And ombrifuge (Lord love you !), case o' rain, 
 I flopp'd forth, 'sbuddikins ! on my own ten toes, 
 (I do assure you there be ten of them), 
 And we»it clump-clumping up hill and down dale 
 To find myself o' the sudden i' front o' the boy. 
 Put case I hadn't 'em on me, could I ha' bought 
 
116 THE COCK AND THE BULL. 
 
 This sort-o'-kind-o'-wliat-you-might-call toy, 
 This pebble-thing, o' the boy-thiBg ? Q. E. D. 
 That's proven without aid from rmimping Pope, 
 Sleek porporate or bloated Cardinal. 
 (Isn't it, old Fatchaps ? You're in Euclid now.) 
 So, having the shilling — having i' fact a lot — 
 And pence and halfpence, ever so many o' them, 
 I purchased, as I think I said before, 
 The pebble (lapis, Iwpidis, -di, -dem, -de — 
 What nouns 'crease short i' the genitive, Fatchaps, 
 
 eh?) 
 0' the boy, a bare-legg'd beggarly son of a gun. 
 For one-and-fourpence. Here we are again. 
 
 Now Law steps in, bigwigg'd, voluminous-jaw'd ; 
 Investigates and re-investigates 
 Was the transaction illegal ? Law shakes head. 
 Perpend, sir, all the bearings of the cjise. 
 
THE COCK AND THE BOLL. li? 
 
 At first the coin was mine, the chattel his. 
 But now (by virtue of the said exchange 
 And barter) vice versa all the coin, 
 Per juris operationem, vests 
 I' the boy and his assigns till ding o' doom ; 
 {In scBCula sceculo-o-o-orum ; 
 I think I hear the Abate mouth out that.) 
 To have and hold the same to him and them . . . 
 Confer some idiot on Conveyancing. 
 Whereas the pebble and every part thereof. 
 And all that appertaineth thereunto, 
 Quodcunque pertinet ad earn rem, 
 (I fancy, sir, my Latin's rather pat) 
 Or shall, will, may, might, can, could, would or 
 
 should, 
 (Subavdi ccetera — clap we to the close — 
 For what's the good of law in a case o' the kind) 
 Is mine to all intents and purposes. 
 This settled^ I resume the thread o' the tale. 
 
118 THE COCK AND TiJE BULL. 
 
 Now for a touch o' the vendor's quality. 
 He says a gen'lman bought a pebble of him, 
 (This pebble i' sooth, sir, which I hold i' my hand) — 
 And paid for't, I'iliQ a gen'lman, on the nail. 
 " Did I o'ercharge him a ha'penny ? Devil a bit. 
 Fiddlepin's end ! Get out, you blazing ass ! 
 Gabble o' the goose. Don't bugaboo-baby me / 
 Go double or quits? Yah! tittup! what's the odds?" 
 — There's the transaction view'd i' the vendor's 
 light. 
 
 Next ask that dumplcd hag, stood snuffling by, 
 With her tliree frowsy blowsy brats o' babes, 
 The scum o' the kennel, cream o' the filth-heap — 
 
 Faugh ! 
 A ie, aie, aie, aie ! otototototoT, 
 ('Stead which we blurt out Hoighty toighty now) — 
 And the baker and candlcstickmaker, and Jack and 
 Gill, 
 
THE COCK AND THE BULL. 119 
 
 Blear'd Goodj this and queasy Gaffer tliat. 
 Ask the schoolmaster. Take schoolmaster first. 
 
 He saw a gentleman purchase of a lad 
 A stone, and pay for it riie, on the square, 
 And carry it oE per salhim, jauntily, 
 Propria quae maribus, gentleman's property now 
 (Agreeably to the law explain'd above), 
 In proprium usuni, for his private ends. 
 The boy he chuck'd a brown i' the air, and bit 
 I' the face the shilling : heaved a thumping stone 
 At a lean hen that ran cluck clucking by, 
 (And hit her, dead as nail i' post o' door,) 
 Then abiit — what's the Ciceronian phrase ? — 
 Excessit, evasit, erupit — off slogs boy 
 Off like bird, avi similis — (you observed 
 The dative ? Pretty i' the Mantuan !) — Anglice 
 Off in three flea skips. Hactenus, so far, 
 So good, tarn bene. Bene, satis, male — , 
 
120 THE COCK AND THE BULL. 
 
 Where was I wifch my trope 'bout one in a quag ? 
 
 I did once hitch the syntax into verse : 
 
 Verhum personale, a verb personal, 
 
 Concordat — ay, " agrees," old Fatchaps — cuvi 
 
 Nominativo^ with its nominative, 
 
 Genere^ i' point o' gender, numero, 
 
 0' number, et perso7ia, and person. Ui, 
 
 Instance : Sol rait, down flops sun, et and, 
 
 Monies umbrantur, out flounce mountains. Pah ! 
 
 Excuse me, sir, I think I'm going mad. 
 
 You see the trick on't though, and can yourself 
 
 Continue the discourse ad lihitum. 
 
 It takes up about eighty thousand lines, 
 
 A thing imagination, boggles at : 
 
 And might, odds-bobs, sir ! in judicious hands. 
 
 Extend from here to Mcsopotamj. 
 
AN EXAMINATION PAPER. 
 
 " THE POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OP THE PICKWICK CLUB." 
 
 Cambridge, 18o7. 
 
 1. Mention any occasions on whicli it is specified 
 that the Fat Boy was iwt asleep ; and that (1) 
 Mr. Pickwick and (2) Mr. Weller, senr,, ran. 
 Deduce from expressions used on one occasion Mr. 
 Pickwick's maximum of speed. 
 
 2. Translate into coherent English, adding a 
 note wherever a word, a construction, or an allusion, 
 requires it : 
 
 " Go on, Jemmy — like black-eyed Susan — all 
 in the Downs " — " Smart chap that cabman — 
 handled his fives well — but if I'd been your 
 friend in the green jemmy — punch his head — 
 pig's whisper — pieman, too." 
 
 Elucidate the expression, " the Spanish Traveller," 
 
 and the " narcotic bedstead." 
 
 3. Who were Mr. Staple, Goodwin, Mr. Brooks, 
 VUlam, Mrs. Bunkin, " old Nobs," " cast-iron 
 head," " young Bantam ?" 
 
 4. What operation was performed on Tom 
 Smart's chair ? Who little thinks that in which 
 pocket, of what garment, in where, he has left what, 
 entreating him to return to whom, with how many 
 what, and all hoAV big ? 
 
m AN EXAMINATION PAPER. 
 
 5. Give, approximately, the height of Mr. Dub- 
 hley ; and, accurately, the Christian names of Mr. 
 Grummer, Mrs. Raddle, and the fat Boy ; also the 
 surname of the Zephyr. 
 
 6. " Mr. Weller's knowledge of London was 
 extensive and peculiar." Illustrate this by a refer- 
 ence to the facts. 
 
 7. Describe the Rebellion which had irritated 
 Mr. Nupkins on the day of Mr. Pickwick's arrest? 
 
 8. Give in full Samuel Weller's first compliment 
 to Mary, and his father's critique upon the same 
 young lady. What church was on the valentine 
 that first attracted Mr. Samuel's eye in the shop ? 
 
 9. Describe the common Prof eel -machine. 
 
 10. State the component parts of dog's nose; 
 and simplify the expression " taking a grinder." 
 
 11. On finding his principal in the pound, Mr. 
 Weller and the town-beadle varied directly. Show 
 that the latter was ultimately eliminated, and state 
 the number of rounds in the square which is not 
 described. 
 
 12. " Any think for air and exei'cise ; as the 
 wery old donkey observed ven they voke him up 
 from his deathbed to carry ten gcn'lmen to Green- 
 wich in a tax-cart." Illustrate this by stating anj 
 remark recorded in the Pickwick Papers to have 
 been made by a (previously) dumb animal, with 
 the circumstances under which he iuade it. 
 
 13. What kind of cigars did Mr. Ben Allen 
 chiefly smoke, and where did he knock and take 
 naps alternately, nnrler the impression that it was 
 hie home ? 
 
AN EXAMINATION PAP Eli. 123 
 
 14. What was the ordinary occupation of Mr. 
 Sawyer's boy ? whence did Mr. Allen derive the 
 idea that there was a special destiny between Mr. 
 S. and Arabella ? 
 
 15. Describe Weller's Method of " gently in- 
 dicating his presence " to the young lady in the 
 garden ; and the Form of Salutation usual among 
 the coachmen of the period. 
 
 16. State any incidents you know in the career 
 of Tom Martia, butcher, previous to his incarcera- 
 tion. 
 
 17. Give "Weller's Theories for the extraction of 
 Mr, Pickwick from the Fleet. Where was his 
 wife's will found ? 
 
 18. How did the old lady make a memorandum, 
 and of what, at whist ? Show that there were at 
 least three times as many fiddles as harps in Mug- 
 gleton at the time of the ball at Manor Farm. 
 
 19. What is a red-faced Nixon ? 
 
 20. Write down the chorus to each verse of 
 Mr. S. Weller's song, and a sketch of the mottle- 
 faced man's excursus on it. Is there any ground 
 for conjecturing that he (Sam) had more brothers 
 than one ? 
 
 21. How many lumps of sugar went into the 
 Shepherd's liquor as a rule ? and is any exception 
 recorded ? 
 
 22. What seal was on Mr. Winkle's letter to his 
 father? What penitential attitude did he assume 
 before Mr. Pickwick ? 
 
 23. " She's a swelling visibly." When did the 
 
124 AN EXAMINATION PAPER. 
 
 Bame phenomenon occur again, and what fluid 
 caused the pressure on the body in the latter case? 
 
 24. How did Mr, Weller, senior, define tho 
 Funds, and what view did he take of Reduced 
 Consols ? in what terms is his elastic force de- 
 scribed, when he assaulted Mr. Stiggins at tho 
 meeting ? Write down the name of the meeting ? 
 
 25. " n^oBcxToyvu/xc^v : a good judge of cattle; 
 hence, a good judge of character." !Note on -i^sch. 
 Ag. — Illustrate the theory involved by a remark of 
 the parent Weller. 
 
 26. Give some account of the word " fanteeg," 
 and hazard any conjecture explanatory of the ex- 
 pression " My Prooshan Blue," applied by Mr. 
 Samuel to Mr. Tony Weller. 
 
 27. In developing to P. M. his views of a pro- 
 position, what assumption did Mr. Pickwick feel 
 justified in making ? 
 
 28. Deduce from a remark of Mr. Weller, junior, 
 the price per mile of cabs at the period. 
 
 29. What do you know of the hotel next the 
 Bull at Rochester ? 
 
 30. Who, besides Mr. Pickwick, is recorded to 
 have worn gaiters ? 
 
KEY 
 
 TO THE ' PICKWICK ' EXAMINATION PAPER. 
 
 1. 
 See Chapters IV., VIIL, XXVIIL, LIV. 
 
 (1) „ IV., XXX. (twice), XXXIX. 
 
 (2) „ LVI. 
 
 2. 
 
 Two of Jingle's speeches are here quoted, the first 
 being in Chapter III., and the second in Chapter II. 
 For " Spanish traveller " see Chapter III., and for 
 " narcotic bedstead " see Chapter XLI. " Go on. 
 Jemmy," is Mr. Jingle's adjuration to the actor whom 
 he has previously designated " Dismal Jemmy," urging 
 the commencement of the ' Stroller's Tale.' " Like 
 black -eyed Susan — all in the Downs " has the double 
 application to the stroller's melancholy and the first 
 line of Gay's song of 'Black-eyed Susan ' — " All in the 
 Downs the fleet was moored." *' Handled his fives 
 well " of course refers to the " spari-ing " of the cabman 
 who wanted to fight Mr. Pickwick. " Friend in the 
 green jemmy " refers to ^Ir. Wi'ikle, who, we are told 
 in Chapter I., " wore a new green shooting-coat," &c. 
 " Pig's whisper " is slang for a very brief space of 
 time. Bartlett says the Americans have "pig's whistle" 
 with the same signification. 
 
12G ki:y to the 'Pickwick' 
 
 3. 
 See Chapters MI., XVIIL, XIX., XXII., XXVn., 
 XXXIV., XXXVI., XLIV. 
 
 4. 
 See two several parts of ' The Bagman's Story ' in 
 Chapter XIV. 
 
 5. 
 See Chapters XXIV., XXV., XLVI., VIIL, XLI. 
 
 6. 
 See Chapter XX. 
 
 7. 
 See Chapter XXIV. 
 
 8. 
 See Chapters XXV., LVL, XXXIH. 
 
 9. 
 See Chapter XXXHI. 
 
 10. 
 See Chapters XXXIII. and XXXI 
 
 11. 
 See the end of Chapter XIX. 
 
 12. 
 
 Ilhistrations will be found severally in Chapters 
 XXXIII., XXXV., XLVIL 
 
 13. 
 See Chapters XXX and XXXH. 
 
EXAMINATION PAPER. 127 
 
 14. 
 
 See two separate passages in Chapter XXXVIII. 
 
 15. 
 
 See Chapters XXXIX. and XLIII. 
 
 16. 
 
 See Chapter XLII. 
 
 17. 
 See Chapters XLIII., XLV., LV. 
 
 18. 
 See Chapters VL and XXVIII. 
 
 19. 
 
 See Chapter XLIII. "You've been a prophcsyin' 
 away very fine lUie a red-faced Xixon as tlie sixpenny 
 books gives picters on." The allusion is to Robert 
 Nixon, the Cheshire prophet. See Notes and Queries, 
 first series, vol. viii., pp. 257 and 32G ; and fijurth series, 
 vol. xi., pp. 171 and 2G5. Nixon's prophecies have been 
 frequently published in the form of chapbooks, and 
 were probably current at the time with a highly-coloured 
 portrait. 
 
 20. 
 
 The first requisition may be complied with bj 
 reference to Chapter XLIII. The following is an- 
 swered in Chapter X. 
 
J28 KEY TO THE ' PJCKWJCIC 
 
 21. 
 
 See Chapters XLV. and LII. 
 
 22. 
 
 See Chapters L. and XLVII. 
 
 23. 
 See Chapters XXXIII. and XLV. 
 
 24. 
 
 The first two questions are answered in Chapters 
 LII. and LV. The next is answered at the end of 
 Chapter XXXIII. ; where also is the information lastly 
 required. 
 
 25. 
 
 The illustration required is in Chapter LV. 
 
 2G. 
 See Chapters XXXVIII. and XXXIIL '' Fanteeg; 
 a worry or bustle. Also, ill-humour. — Vaj-ious Dia^ 
 lects." — Halliwell. " Prooshan blue " probably refers 
 to the colour of dress -coats. " Which gentleman '* 
 your party wears a bright blue dress-coat ? " enqu 
 The Boots, in ' Pickwick,' Chapter II. Thus Sa a 
 "VVeller's "Prooshan Blue" is a finely-dressed fello\ of 
 the Pickwick- Weller period. 
 
 27. 
 See Chapter XXTV. 
 
EXAMINATION PAPER. 121) 
 
 28. 
 See the opening of Chapter XXII. 
 
 29. 
 See Chapter 11. 
 
 30. 
 See Chapter XX. 
 
 
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