But suffer me to pace Like outcast spirits who wait THE AGE OF WISDOM. Ho, pretty page, with the dimpled chin, That never has known the Barber's shear, All your wish is woman to win, This is the way that boys begin, Wait till you come to Forty Year. Curly gold locks cover foolish brains, Forty times over let Michaelmas pass, Pledge me round, I bid ye declare, All good fellows whose beards are grey, Did not the fairest of the fair The reddest lips that ever have kissed, The brightest eyes that ever have shone, May pray and whisper, and we not list, Or look away, and never be missed, Ere yet ever a month is gone. Gillian's dead, God rest her bier, Alone and merry at Forty Year, Dipping my nose in the Gascon wine. SORROWS OF WERTHER. WERTHER had a love for Charlotte Charlotte was a married lady, And a moral man was Werther, So he sighed and pined and ogled, And no more was by it troubled. Charlotte, having seen his body Borne before her on a shutter, Like a well-conducted person, Went on cutting bread and butter THE LAST OF MAY. (IN REPLY TO AN INVITATION DATED ON THE 1ST.) VOL. I. By fate's benevolent award, I'll drink a bumper with my lord. That I may reach that happy time The kindly gods I pray, For are not ducks and peas in prime At thirty boards, 'twixt now and then, My knife and fork shall play, But better wine and better men And though, good friend, with whom I dine, Your honest head is grey; And, like this grizzled head of mine, Has seen its last of May; F LOVE SONGS MADE EASY. WHAT MAKES MY HEART TO THRILL AND GLOW? THE MAY-FAIR LOVE SONG. WINTER and summer, night and morn, er looks into St. James's Park. I am a Foreign-Office Clerk. My toils, my pleasures, every one, I find are stale, and dull, and slow; I could have seized a sentry's gun My wearied brains out out to blow. What is it makes my blood to run? What makes my heart to beat and glow ? My notes of hand are burnt, perhaps? I still am prey of debt and dun; My elder brother's stout and well. What is it makes my blood to run, What makes my heart to glow and swell! I know my chief's distrust and hate; Right Honourable Edmund Burke ! And all my heart to swell and glow? ? Why, why is all so bright and gay There is no change, there is no cause ; My office-time I found to-day Disgusting as it ever was. At three, I went and tried the clubs, And yawned and saunter'd to and fro; And now my heart jumps up and throbs, And all my soul is in a glow. At half-past four I had the cab; And dirty brown the London snow. er down by dear, old Bolton Row, A something made my heart to pant, And caused my cheek to flush and glow. What could it be that made me find Thirteen small glasses of Curaço ? And every fibre thrill and glow? |