OUR BALL. "Comment! c'est lui? que le je regards encore !-c'est que vraiment il est bien change; n'est ce pas, mon papa?" LES PREMIERS AMOURS. YOU'LL come to our ball;-since we parted, For a week, when they took you away. Which you used to sing to me then. I know the romance, since it's over, "Twere idle, or worse, to recall ; I know you're a terrible rover; But, Clarence, you'll come to our Ball! It's only a year since, at College, You put on your cap and your gown; The voice that was best when it faltered, Is fuller and firmer in tone : And the smile that should never have altered, Dear Clarence ;-it is not your own; Your cravat was badly selected, Your coat don't become you at all; And why is your hair so neglected? You must have it curled for our Ball. I've often been out upon Haldon I sat in your love of a shawl; And I'll wear what you brought me from Florence, Perhaps, if you'll come to our Ball. You'll find us all changed since you vanished; We've set up a National School; And waltzing is utterly banished; The Major is going to travel; Miss Hyacinth threatens a rout; And Jane has gone on with her easels, And Anne has gone off with Sir Paul ; And Fanny is sick with the measles,— And I'll tell you the rest at the Ball. You'll meet all your beauties;-the Lily And the Fairy of Willowbrook Farm, And Lucy, who made me so silly At Dawlish, by taking your arm; Miss Manners, who always abused you, For talking so much about Hock; And her sister who often amused you, By raving of rebels and Rock; And something which surely would answer, An heiress quite fresh from Bengal ;— So, though you were seldom a dancer, You'll dance, just for once, at our Ball. But out on the world!-from the flowers Like a streamlet beginning to freeze, That ever you danced at our Ball. You once could be pleased with our ballads;— You once could be charmed with our salads; You've forgotten the when and the how; They tell me you've many who flatter, And you'll think of the spell that once bound you: And you'll come, won't you come? to our Ball? MY PARTNER. "There is, perhaps, no subject of more universal interest in the whole range of natural knowledge, than that of the unceasing fluctuations which take place in the atmosphere in which we are immersed." Ar Cheltenham, where one drinks one's fill Of folly and cold water, I danced, last year, my first quadrille, Her cheek with summer's rose might vie, I spoke of novels :-"Vivian Grey" And "Frankenstein" alarming; |