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Our love was like most other loves

A little glow, a little shiver,
A rose-bud, and a pair of gloves,

And “Fly not yet ”-upon the river;
Some jealousy of some one's heir,

Some hopes of dying broken-hearted, A miniature, a lock of hair,

The usual vows—and then we parted. We parted; months and years rolled by;

We met again four summers after. Our parting was all sob and sigh,

Our meeting was all mirth and laughter: For in my heart's most secret cell

There had been many other lodgers; And she was not the ball-room's Belle, But only—Mrs. Something Rogers !

WINTHROP M. PRAED.

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TU QUOQUE.

An Idyl in the Conservatory.

NELLIE.
IF I were you, when ladies at the play, sir,

Beckon and nod, a melodrama through,
I would not turn abstractedly away, sir,
If I were you!

FRANK.
If I were you, when persons I affected
Wait for three hours to take me down to

Kew,
I would, at least, pretend I recollected,

If I were you!

NELLIE.

If I were you, when ladies are so lavish,

Sir, as to keep me every waltz but two, I would not dance with odious Miss M'Tavish,

If I were you!

FRANK.

If I were you, who vow you can not suffer

Whiff of the best,--the mildest “honey-dew," I would not dance with smoke-consuming

Puffer,
If I were you!

NELLIE.
If I were you, I would not, sir, be bitter,

Even to write the “Cynical Review;

FRANK.

No, I should doubtless find flirtation fitter,

If I were you!

NELLIE. Really! you would ? Why, Frank, you're

quite delightful Hot as Othello, and as black of hue; Borrow my fan. I would not look so frightful,

If I were you!

FRANK. “It is the cause "-I mean your chaperon is

Bringing some well-curled juvenile. Adieu ! I shall retire. I'd

spare
that

poor Adonis, If I were you!

NELLIE.

Go, if you will. At once! and by express, sir !

Where shall it be? To China-or Peru ? Go. I should leave inquirers my address, sir,

If I were you !

FRANK.

No—I remain. To stay and fight a duel

Seems, on the whole, the proper thing to doAh, you are strong I would not then be cruel,

If I were you!

NELLIE.

One does not like one's feelings to be doubted,

FRANK. One does not like one's friends to misconstrue,

NELLIE.
If I confess that I a wee-bit pouted ?

FRANK.
I should admit that I was piqué, too.

NELLIE. Ask me to dance. I'd say no more about it, If I were you!

(Waltz.-Exeunt.)

AUSTIN DOBSON.

INCOGNITA.

Just for a space that I met her

Just for a day in the train!
It began when she feared it would wet her,

That tiniest spurtle of rain:
So we tucked a great rug in the sashes,

And carefully padded the pane;
And I sorrow in sackcloth and ashes,

Longing to do it again!

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