"GOOD-NIGHT.” [Extract.] EDWARD FITZGERALD. OOD-NIGHT to thee, lady! though many Have joined in the dance of to-night, Thy form was the fairest of any, Where all was seducing and bright; Thy smile was the softest and dearest, Thy form the most sylph-like of all, And thy voice the most gladsome and clearest That e'er held a partner in thrall. Good-night to thee, lady! 'tis over The waltz, the quadrille, and the song GOOD-NIGHT. The whispered farewell of the lover, The heartless adieux of the throng; The heart that was throbbing with pleasure, The girls that were dreaming of beaux. 'Tis over-the lights are all dying, The coaches all driving away; And many a fair one is sighing, And many a false one is gay; And Beauty counts over her numbers Of conquests, as homeward she drives And some are gone home to their slumbers, And I, while my cab in the shower Is waiting, the last at the door, Am looking all round for the flower That fell from your wreath on the floor. 131 132 GOOD-NIGHT. I'll keep it if but to remind me, Though withered and faded its hueWherever next season may find me Of England-of Almack's-and you! IRISH EYES. ALFRED PERCEVAL GRAVES. RISH eyes! Irish eyes! Eyes that most of all can move me ! Lift one look From my book, Through your lashes dark, and prove me In my worship, oh how wise! Other orbs, be content! In your honour, not dispraisal- Most I prize Irish eyes, Since were not your ebon, hazel, Violet-all to light them lent ? |