Part 3 (1/2)
The last straw to the earth will bow The o'erloaded camel, And surely I resembled now That ill-used mammal.
See how a thankless world regards The gifted choir Of minstrels, singers, poets, bards, Who sweep the lyre.
This is the recompense we meet In our vocation.
We bear the burden and the heat Of inspiration;
The beauties of the earth we sing In glowing numbers, And to the 'reading public' bring Post-prandial slumbers;
We save from Mammon's gross dominion These sordid times . . .
And all this, in the world's opinion, Is 'stringing rhymes.'
It is as if a man should say, In accents mild, 'Have you been stringing beads to-day, My gentle child?'
(Yet even children fond of singing Will pay off scores, And I to-day at least am stringing Not beads but bores.)
And now the sands were left behind, The Club-house past.
I wondered, Can I hope to find Escape at last,
Or must I take him home to tea, And bear his chatter Until the last train to Dundee Shall solve the matter?
But while I shuddered at the thought And planned resistance, My conquering Alexander caught Sight in the distance
Of two young ladies, one of whom Is his ambition; And so, with somewhat heightened bloom, He asked permission
To say good-bye to me and follow.
I freely gave it, And wished him all success. _Apollo_ _Sic me servavit_.
A BUNCH OF TRIOLETS
TO ---
You like the trifling triolet: Well, here are three or four.
Unless your likings I forget, You like the trifling triolet.
Against my conscience I abet A taste which I deplore; You like the trifling triolet: Well, here are three or four.
Have you ever met with a pretty girl Walking along the street, With a nice new dress and her hair in curl?
Have you ever met with a pretty girl, When her hat blew off and the wind with a whirl Wafted it right to your feet?
Have you ever met with a pretty girl Walking along the street?
I ran into a lady's arms, Turning a corner yesterday.
To my confusion, her alarms, I ran into a lady's arms.
So close a vision of her charms Left me without a word to say.
I ran into a lady's arms, Turning a corner yesterday.
How many maids you love, How many maids love you!