THE curse of Adam, the old curse of all Of worldly toil, vain wishes, and hard strife, I taste, through thee, my Eva, my sweet wife. LOVE, dearest lady, such as I would speak, That skims the surface of a tinted cheek Unlike the love which I would give and seek, Whose health is of no hue. to feel decay With cheeks' decay, that have a rosy prime. 10* "THE LAST MAN." 'T WAS in the year two thousand and one I sat on the gallows-tree all alone, To think how the pest had spared my life, When up the heath came a jolly knave, It made me crow to see his old duds So up he came to the timbers' foot And pitched down his greasy bags.— Good Lord! how blithe the old beggar was At pulling out his scraps, The very sight of his broken orts Made a work in his wrinkled chaps : "Come down," says he, "you Newgate-bird, And have a taste of my snaps! Then down the rope, like a tar from the mast But I wished myself on the gallows again Then after this grace he cast him down. A pace or two off, on the windward side," For the felons' bones lay there. But he only laughed at the empty skulls. "I never harmed them, and they won't harm me: Let the proud and the rich be cravens!" I did not like that strange beggar man, Anon he shook out his empty old poke; "There's the crumbs," saith he, "for the ravens !" It made me angry to see his face, It had such a jesting look; But while I made up my mind to speak, A small case-bottle he took; Quoth he, "Though I gather the green water-cress, My drink is not of the brook!" Full manners-like he tendered the dram. O, it came of a dainty cask! But, whenever it came to his turn to pull, But I always wipe the brim with my sleeve, And then he laughed so loudly and long, I thought the very Old One was come To mock me before my death, And wished I had buried the dead men's bones That were lying about the heath! But the beggar gave me a jolly clap "Come, let us pledge each other, "I've a yearning for thee in my heart, For as I passed from town to town But when I saw thee sitting aloft, Now a curse (I thought) be on his love, An' it were not for that beggar man But I promised myself an hour should come So down we sat and boused again When, just when the gentle west-wind came, "Up, up, on the tree," quoth the beggar man, "Till these horrible dogs go by! And, lo! from the forest's far-off skirts A hundred hounds pursuing at once, Till he sunk adown at the gallows' foot, His haunches they tore, without a horn And there was not a single scarlet coat I turned, and looked at the beggar man, And with curses sore he chid at the hounds, Anon, saith he, "Let's down again, For the world's all free, and we may choose With that, he set up his staff on end, For the porters all were stiff and cold, And when he came where their masters lay, The grandest palaces in the land Were as free as workhouse sheds. But the beggar man made a mumping face, It made me curse to hear how he whined; And I bade him walk the world by himself, So he turned right and I turned left, As if we had never met; And I chose a fair stone house for myself, And for three brave holidays drank my fill |