90

THE MUSIC OF THE PAST.

She sang, too-a little-did grandmamma dear;—
She would garnish a fugue of Scarlatti,

By letting me hear "Said a Smile to a Tear,"
Or by crooning my pet "Batti, batti.”
To grasp at the latter would cost me a strain ;
For though always a creature of sentiment-

I caught but a word of it now and again,

Only knowing what one out of twenty meant.

We fogies have often a way, it

appears

(And a way it is folly concealing),

Of letting our hearts run away with our ears,
And our science elope with our feeling.

Those tones of the past, that have sunk to their tomb,

May at present be laughed at as funny ones;I cling to them still in the hours of my gloom, For they carry me back to my sunny ones.

A PLAIN COOK.

NE Hannah Glasse, a homely dame,
Long long ago produced a book
(For fun-for profit-or for fame)
Which taught our grannies how to cook.
Suppose we run it through, and seize

A stray quotation as we pass.

To dress a Hare.-Attention, please!—

"First catch your Hare," says Hannah Glasse.

Methinks 'tis easy, reader dear,

To find a moral in the phrase.—

I've dreamed about a bright career

Through half my nights and all my days.

By day and night my visions bring

A bard's ambition; but, alas !

My Muse is dumb and cannot sing.

"First catch your Hare," says Hannah Glasse.

92

A PLAIN COOK.

It is not meet the poet's life

Should pass untended and alone ;— I'd fain discover in a wife

Some heart responsive to my own. No proud patrician would I woo, Nor one of the plebeian class;

But something just between the two.— “First catch your Hare," says Hannah Glasse.

With just a thousand pounds a year,

Proceeding from the Three-per-cents,

My future might be pretty clear

(With something in the way of rents).

But gold is not for such as I;

My stock in trade is only brass,

I may be wealthy by-and-by.

"First catch your Hare," says Hannah Glasse.

USED UP.

Canada this afternoon

They chase the grisly bear,

While swarth Kentucky hunts the coon

Or seeks the 'possum's lair.

Nor coons nor 'possums I pursue,

Nor court the bear's embrace;

I can but maim a cat or two-
My life is commonplace.

The Sallee rover after dark
Will sweep across the sea;
The Algerine will steer his bark
In search of £ s. d.
When I desire to go afloat
(Which rarely is the case),

I can but seek the Chelsea boat

My life is commonplace.

94

USED UP.

The roundelay of rapture fills
The valleys of Cashmere ;
The river dances, and the hills
Are stooping down to hear.
Of music, frankly I avow,

I scarcely own a trace;
I can but make a jolly row--
My life is commonplace.

Constantinople's minarets

Gleam brightly in the sun;
He slowly sets, and half regrets
His daily work is done.

The view I get from my domains
Is limited in space;

I can but see Saint Clement Danes--
My life is commonplace.

In Timbuctoo, a blest retreat,

Where Instinct stands for Law,
To-night perchance the chiefs will eat
A missionary raw.

Full gladly I would sit and take

My meals with such a race;

I can but order chop or steak-—
My life is commonplace.