The bell-pull turned his courage into vapor, As though 'twould cause a shower-bath to shed Its thousand shocks, to make him sigh and caper He looked askance, and did not like the scraper. "What business have I here? (he thought) a dunce A hopeless passion thus to fan and foster, Instead of putting out its wick at once: She's gone it's very evident I've lost her And to the wanton wind I should have tossed her Pish! I will leave her with her moon, at ease, To toast and eat it, like a single Gloster, Or cram some fool with it, as good green cheese, Or make a honey-moon, if so she please. "Yes here I leave her; " and as thus he spoke, He plied the knocker with such needless force, It almost split the pannel of sound oak ; And then he went as wildly through a course Who, presto! cloak, and carpet-bag to boot, His hat upon his head, no matter how, Like fond Medora, watching at her window, "The Cheapest House in Town" of Todd and Sturch. The private house of Reverend Doctor Birch, The public-house, closed nightly at eleven, And then that house of prayer, the parish church, Yet something in the prospect so absorbed her, As if some midnight ghost, from regions colder, "Lorenzo ! 99 "Ellen! "" "Madam!" then came "Sir!" and They tried to speak, but hammered at each word, Such broken English never else was heard, They shook like jellies made without a due "Ellen! I'm come to bid you fare farewell; They thus began to fight their verbal duel; "Since some more hap hap happy man must For so they split their words like grits for gruel. Drew out that once inestimable jewel, "There take it, Madam The face of one take it back, I crave, but I must now forget her; Bestow it on whatever hapless slave Your art has last enticed into your fetter And there are your epistles there each letter! I wish no record of your vows' infractions ; Send them to South—or Children-you had better They will be novelties rare benefactions To shine in Philosophical Transactions! "Take them pray take them - I resign them quite! I should have led you by your leave and pardon - "And here's the birth-day ringnor man nor devil Should once have torn it from my living hand; Perchance 'twill look as well on Mr. Neville; And that and that is all and now I stand Absolved of each dissevered tie and band And so farewell, till Time's eternal sickle Shall reap our lives; in this, or foreign land Some other may be found for truth to stickle, Almost as fair, and not so false and fickle!" And there he ceased, as truly it was time; For of the various themes that left his mouth, One half surpassed her intellectual climb : She knew no more than the old Hill of Howth About that "Children of a larger growth," Who notes proceedings of the F. R. S.'s; Kit North was just as strange to her as South, Except the South the weathercock expresses; Nay, Bartley's Orrery defied her guesses. Howbeit some notion of his jealous drift She gathered from the simple outward fact "I false! - unjust Lorenzo! and to you! O, all ye holy gospels that incline The soul to truth, bear witness I am true! True as the dial to the sun at noon, True as the tide to 'yonder blessed moon'!” And as she spoke, she pointed through the window, Meanwhile, as she upraised her face so Grecian, "The Moon!" he cried, and an electric spasm Seemed all at once his features to distort, At last his voice came, of most shrilly sort, 66 Speak! The Moon! Ellen! is your sight indeed so short! Brute! savage that I am, and block! The Moon! (O, ye Romantics, what a shock !) Why, that's the new Illuminated Clock!" MORNING MEDITATIONS. LET Taylor preach, upon a morning breezy, By half as lying. What if the lark does carol in the sky, Talk not to me of bees and such-like hums, A bed of time, |