MY OLD COAT.

VI.

I see in my fire, through the smoke of my pipe, Sweet maidens of old that are long over-ripe, And a troop of old cronies, right gay cavaliers, Whose guineas paid well for champagne at Watier's.

VII.

A strong generation, who drank, fought, and kissed, Whose hands never trembled, whose shots never missed,

Who lived a quick life, for their pulses beat highWe remember them well, sir, my old coat and I.

VIII.

Ah, gone is the age of wild doings at court,

Rotten boroughs, knee-breeches, hair-triggers, and

port;

Still I've got a magnum to moisten my throat,

And I'll drink to the past in my tattered old coat.

MORTIMER COLLINS.

AD CHLOEN, M.A.

(Fresh from her Cambridge Examination.)

LADY, very fair are you,

And your eyes are very blue,

And your hose;

And your brow is like the snow;

And the various things you know

Goodness knows.

And the rose flush on your cheek,

And your algebra and Greek

Perfect are;

And that loving lustrous eye

Recognizes in the sky

Every star.

You have pouting piquant lips,

You can doubtless an eclipse

Calculate;

CHLOE, M.A.

To be made a victim, sir,

If to puddings I prefer

Cambridge !

If with giddier girls I play

Croquet through the summer day

On the turf,

Then at night ('tis no great boon)

AN INTERLUDE.

It is surely not a sin

If I keep my secrets in

Violet.

MORTIMER COLLINS,

AN INTERLUDE.

N the greenest growth of the May-time,

IN

I rode where the woods were wet,

Between the dawn and the day-time;

The spring was glad that we met.

There was something the season wanted, Though the ways and the woods smelt sweet;

The breath at your lips that panted,

The pulse of the grass at your feet.

You came, and the sun came after,

And the green grew golden above;

And the May-flowers lightened with laughter,

And the meadow-sweet shook with love.