150

THE SUPER'S DREAM.

Too fugitive dreams!—It was one of their number That beamed on my sadness a fortnight ago.— (Happy mortals inherit full often in slumber

More pleasure than mortals awake ever know.) But the annals of Dreamland a rapture can tell not— A bliss more ecstatic-a joy more serene;

For my manager, SOMNUS, had cast me for Melnotte, And lovely Matilda MacTabb for Pauline.

Ah me how my heart with ambition was burning !—
Ah me-how my pulses with energy beat!—
There was no indecision whatever concerning
The way to dispose of my hands and my feet.
O'er this bosom young Love with Apollo stood sentry,
To guard me from all that could mar my success.
I mistook not one exit, I missed not one entry;
And never confounded O.P. with P.S.—

The love of Matilda MacTabb had inspired me ;-
I ranted-I bullied-I swindled-I fought-
And, in fact, I did all that my author desired me;
Which means that I did pretty much what I ought.
But alas!-I had studied five acts to discover

That SOMNUS had played me a practical joke :
For ere the Pauline-[my MacTabb]-and her lover
Could make up their minds to be wedded-I woke !

MUCH TOO KIND.

the soul of good-nature, and make it my aim To oblige all the world when I can : And, wherever Society utters my name, I am known as "that willing young man." But our merits are faults when they run to excess, As I'll try in two minutes to show.

I have learned for so long to say nothing but Yes That I never could learn to say No.

People ask me to sing, or to play, or to dance,
Or to join them at cribbage or whist;

I would rather decline, but they see at a glance
That I dare not and cannot resist.

People borrow my coin in their affable style,
From a crown to a fiver or so :

And I lend with a smile, but regret all the while
That I never could learn to say No.

152

MUCH TOO KIND.

To go shopping with ladies I'm daily required,
Or to stroll in the Park or the "Zoo" ;—
And they seem to imagine I never grow tired,
Though I beg to remark that I do.

To a play or a concert, a party or ball,
'Tis my destiny nightly to go :

For of course my tormentors have learnt one and all That I never could learn to say No.

When my time and my money both come to an end,

At the close of my earthly career,

Let me go to my grave as Humanity's Friend,
For my rights to the title are clear.

Let my epitaph run to the modest effect
That the gentleman lying below

Was perfection in all but one little respect

That he never could learn to say No!

STANZAS.

TO A THOUGHTLESS ONE.

Y hair is gray, but not with years— Despair has bleached my tresses, Since you (the source of all my tears Rejected my addresses.

The flame that made my bosom smart
Was bright and clear and steady;
I only strove to touch your heart,—
Your brain was touched already.

I told you how my passion burned,-
I breathed my true devotion ;-
I murmured, "Is my love returned?"-
You hardly had a notion.

Yet still I pined the truth to find,

My chance looked not a bad one : You talked of making up your mind, Until I thought you had one.

Alas! you smiled on other chaps,
And came at length to doubt me:
Not having thoughts enough, perhaps,
To spare a thought about me.
Farewell! I break the fatal charm,
And quit you as you bid me;
I think you never meant me harm,
But oh the harm you did me.