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 Faëry Queen, and are seen, I ween, By mortals in dreams alone? What her eyes were like, I know not: Her teeth, I presume, were “pearly:" 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 blurr'd; and besides I'd heard That it's horribly rude to stare. And I- was I brusque and surly? Was I partial to rising early? Or why did we twain abscond, All breakfastless, too, from the public view, What pass'd, what was felt or spoken - 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, Charles Stuart Calverley THE LAWYER'S INVOCATION TO SPRING Whereas, on certain boughs and sprays The songs of those said birds arouse The memory of our youthful hours, The birds aforesaid - happy pairs Love, 'mid the aforesaid boughs, inshrines In freehold nests; themselves their heirs, Administrators, and assigns. O busiest term of Cupid's Court, Where tender plaintiffs actions bring, — Season of frolic and of sport, Hail, as aforesaid, coming Spring! Henry Howard Brownell NEGRO LULLABY Bedtime's come fu' little boys, Po' little lamb. Too tiahed out to make a noise, Po' little lamb. You gwine t' have to-morrer sho'? Yes, you tole me dat befo', Don't you fool me, chile, no' mo', Po' little lamb. You been bad de livelong day, Th'owin' stones an' runnin' 'way, My, but you's a-runnin' wil', Look jes' lak some po' folks' chile; Come hyeah! you mos' tiahed to def, Played yo'se'f clean out o' bref, Po' little lamb. See dem han's now sich a sight! Jes' cain't hol' yo' haid up straight, Hadn't oughter played so late, Po' little lamb. Mammy do' know whut she'd do, Lay yo' haid down in my lap, Y' ought to have a right good slap, You been runnin' 'roun' a heap. Po' little lamb. Paul Laurence Dunbar THREE "RHYMES OF IRONQUILL' CAPERS ET CAPER From a chimney on the roof Of the Wilder House hotel, An old army mule go by; Spied those vast and sail-like ears Then the mule he made a tack, Brought his jib round to the wind, And his starboard eye he skinned; Soliloquy Morals two this tale will teach: PASS A father said unto his hopeful son: "Who was Leonidas, my cherished one?" The boy replied, with words of ardent nature: "He was a member of the Legislature." 'How?" asked the parent; then the youngster saith: "He got a pass, and held her like grim death." "Whose pass? What pass?" the anxious father cried; "'Twas the'r monopoly," the boy replied. In deference to the public, we must state That boy has been an orphan since that date. NEOPHYTE Last night a zealous Irishman in town, Meeting a Jew, squared off and knocked him down. And when the Jew inquired of such behavior, The Jew replied: "My friend, that is not so; Mike simply said: "Bedad, ye may be right, And striking out reckless again, and loose, Theology and ignorance combined Make bigotry, and that makes all men blind; Eugene F. Ware ("Ironquill") MY AUNT My aunt! my dear unmarried aunt! I know it hurts her, — though she looks Her waist is ampler than her life, My aunt, my poor deluded aunt! Why will she train that winter curl How can she lay her glasses down, When, through a double convex lens, She just makes out to spell? |