1
a Valentine
the WISE forget, dear heart;
They leave the past
And play the hero’s part,
Brave to the last.
They weep not nor regret,
Calm are their eyes.
Dear heart, the wise forget.—
I am not wise!
2
FORGIVEN?
I SAW Love stand,
Not as he was ere we in conflict met,
But...
A Song lay silent in my pen
Where yesterday I found it,
Right cozy in its gloomy den,
With a melody wrapped round it.
Through all the years ’t was waiting so,
To hear the summons of that minute;
I thought I loved the pen; but no!
It was the song within it!
To-day my lady sang to me
My song in sweetest fashion:...
A Nymph there was in Arcadie
Who owned a crystal spring;
And there she ’d wash, sans mackintosh,
B’gosh, or anything.
A youth there was in Arcadie
Who hunted o’er the brooks;
He would not tote an overcoat,
But travelled on his looks.
Though ancient Greece had no police,
The gods did as they ’d oughter;...
“scorn not the sonnet,” though its strength be sapped,
Nor say malignant its inventor blundered;
The corpse that here in fourteen lines is wrapped
Had otherwise been covered with a hundred.
So happy were Columbia’s eight,
As near the goal they drew,
Each struggling hero all elate,
The cock-swain almost crew.
A Dresden shepherdess was one day
Milking a small Delft cow,
When a Sevres Marquis came along—
I saw him smile and bow:
“O lovely shepherdess, hear my song,”
I think I heard him say,
“For thou hast captured my porcelain heart,
And by my sword I swear thou art
A star in the Milky Way.”
21 B. C.
OLD Horace on a summer afternoon,
Well primed with sweet Falernian, let us say,
Lulled by the far-off brooklet ’s drowsy croon
To a half-doze in a haphazard way,
Scratched off a half a dozen careless rhymes,
As was his habit. When next day he came
Awake to work, he read them several times,
In vain attempt to catch...
In good condition,
Cheap, on account of competition,
Well-broken, easy on his bridle,
With curb or snaffle never idle.
A very little child can ride him,
And carry three or four beside him.
Why plod when you can ride so cheaply?
There is no need to ponder deeply.
I ’ll warrant he ’ll not bite nor kick you;
I ’ve not the...
Boy, I detest these modern innovations,
The Voice crusade may alter some men’s habit,
But, as for me, I ’ll stick to my old rations,
Ale and a rarebit.
In vino vis. The pious dames of Ipswich,
Knowing its worth and fearing lest men waste it,
Condemn its use in christening battle-ships which
Can’t even taste it.
In days when George the Third was King
And ruled the Old Dominion,
And Law and Fashion owned the sway
Of Parliament’s opinion,
A good ship brought across the sea
A treasure fair and fine,—
Miss Nancy’s gown from London town,
The latest Court design!
The plaited waist from neck to belt
Scarce measured half a...
