Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

ΠΟ

TALES OF A GRANDFATHER.

In the dash-along hard-living Regency days

I was prince of the fashion and style.

When I drove in the Park with my carriage and bays, Even Brummell bent low at my smile.

What was gold? A mere nothing. In pleasure and play
Far and wide it got scattered and flung ;—

For, though now on the parish, I proudly can say
I was rolling in riches when young.

Oh, the flirting and frolic and fun that we had!
I was called an Adonis in curls.

There was many a feminine heart very sad
When I married your Grandmother, girls.
I had rivals; but what was a rival to me,
With my figure, my face, and my tongue?
Ah, believe me, the squalid old pauper you see
Was a dashing Don Juan when young.

[ocr errors]

DIFFICULT TO PLEASE.

NEVER knew an uncle's love-an aunt's attentive care

A first or second cousin whose emotions I could

share;

I've not one distant relative (by marriage or by birth) To soothe me in my sadness, or to join me in my

mirth.

My brothers and my sisters are as kind as they can be ; I dote upon my parents, who are passing fond of me ; But I wish the Fates could manage-though I'm quite aware they can't—

To let me have an uncle, and some cousins, and an aunt!

If I could have a hundred pounds paid annually down, And loving hearts about me in some cottage out of

town

Sequestered from the hum of men and Trade's eternal noise,

I'd spend my modest competence in Meliboan joys.

112

DIFFICULT TO PLEASE.

'Tis true that I am opulent-I live in regal state, And pampered menials bring me food on gold and silver plate;

Yet now and then I hanker for a pastoral career,

And think I might contrive it on a hundred pounds a year.

Could I produce a work of art to win a deathless

name

I mean a drama to arouse a multitude's acclaimHow happily and proudly should I bow before the crowd,

While pit and gallery, box and stall, cried "Author!" long and loud.

I've penned sensation articles and poems by the

Score

I've written twenty novels; or, it may be, rather more ; And yet, amidst my triumphs, I occasionally sigh, And murmur, "May I live to write a drama by and by!"

If I were tall and slender, with a mane of auburn hue, And if my nose were aquiline, and if my eyes were blue

How carefully I'd cultivate Byronic looks and ways, And make my hearers wonder with a foolish face of

praise.

DIFFICULT TO PLEASE.

113

I'm only just the middle height (but not at all robust); I'm highly prepossessing in appearance, as I trust ; My eyes are big and brilliant, and my locks are black as jet ;

Had I the pow'r of dyeing both, I might be happy yet.

H

CATCHING AT A STRAW.

HOUGH the planet of Love has grown dimmer
And threatens to vanish outright,

Though the pale star of Hope gives a glimmer,
And nought but a glimmer to-night;

Still my planet and star are above me,
Still neither hath left me for good;
Though my loved one refuses to love me,
She owns that she "would if she could."

They have bidden her think of another,
She bends to the cruel command
Of a tyrannous father and mother,
Who claim to dispose of that hand.
When I pleaded my depth of devotion.
She said-or I misunderstood-

That she dared not encourage the notion,
But certainly "would if she could."

« AnteriorContinuar »