Oldalképek
PDF
ePub
[blocks in formation]

"Beware the Ministerial branch-
Beware the Tory avalanche !"
Was Biggar's caution, and he smiled,
When for a nap he left the wild

"Obstructionists!"

At noon that day O'Donnell craved
A respite, but the Commons braved
The contest, and their only prayer
Was to demolish then and there-

"Obstructionists!"

The chaplain came his usual round,
The Commons sitting still he found,
Using each possible device

To crush that band, not over nice---
"Obstructionists!"

But late on that eventful day

The "stumbling blocks" were kicked away; South Africa rejoiced afar,

And Biggar moaned, "It's done we are!"—

"Obstructionists!"

[blocks in formation]

His hair was dark, and you could trace
A soupson of an ancient race;
And still, in quite his early way,
He wrote of Lords and Ladies gay —

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

The liveried myrmidon but jeered,
"Well, that's the queerest tale I've heerd;
This 'eath's been taken by our Board."
Much moved, the youth in answer roared,

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]
[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

66

Respectfully Dedicated to the Author of “ The Bridge."

I SAT in the Rink at midday;

The clocks were striking the hour,

But you would not have known, for the April sun
Was quenched in a copious shower.

I saw the raindrops falling

In puddles in the street,

And I envied the throng that was passing along
With wet, but unrollered feet.

And far in the hazy distance

Of that dripping April day,

My snug hearth fire gleam'd redder and higher,
Because I was far away.

The rattle of wheels rang round me,
With a quaint and wooden roar,

And groups of the fair, with dishevelled hair,

E'en I, in a moment of madness,

Had snatched at the fatal cup,

And my rollers were on, but I sat all alone,
For alas! I could not get up.

And like those rinkers rolling
Amongst their woodon piers,
A flood of thoughts came o'er me
That filled my eyes with tears.
How often, oh, how often,

In the days that had gone by,

I had waltzed in that room at midnight,
With a fixed and a vacant eye.

How often, oh, how often,

I had wished that a cab from afar,
Would bear me away in its bosom
To my rooms, and a mild cigar.

For my limbs were hot and restless,
And my boots a serious care,
And the burden of mild flirtation,
Seemed greater than I could bear.

But now it is changed and vanished,
It has fallen over the brink;
Before, we were sad, but now we are mad,
And the ball-room is turned to a rink.
Yet whenever I watch these rinkers
Amongst their wooden piers,
Like the sound of April raindrops,
Comes the thought of other years.

And I think how many thousands
Of skate-encumbered men,
Each bearing his burden of ladies,
Have rinked on this floor since then.

I see the long procession,

Still tottering to and fro,

The young feet clumsy and rapid,
The old feet clumsy and slow.

And for ever, and for ever,

As long as the raindrops fall, As long as we've angling ladies, (And angular too) at all,

The Rink and its ceaseless rollers,
And its broken limbs, shall appear
As the symbol of Bedlam's madness
And its accurate image here!

The Figaro, June 14, 1876.

KIT NUBBLES

THE WHITEFRIARGATE Bridge.
I.

I stood on the bridge at midnight,
As "Travis was striking the hour;
And the moon rose o'er the city
Aslant the Dock Co.'s tower.
II.

I stood and recalled how savage,
In the day that's just gone by,

I was stopped by that bridge at midday,

[blocks in formation]
[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Respectfully Dedicated to the Author of "The Bridge."

I SAT in the Rink at midday;

The clocks were striking the hour,

But you would not have known, for the April sun Was quenched in a copious shower.

I saw the raindrops falling

In puddles in the street,

And I envied the throng that was passing along
With wet, but unrollered feet.

And far in the hazy distance

Of that dripping April day,

My snug hearth fire gleam'd redder and higher,
Because I was far away.

The rattle of wheels rang round me,
With a quaint and wooden roar,

And groups of the fair, with dishevelled hair,

E'en I, in a moment of madness,

Had snatched at the fatal cup,
And my rollers were on, but I sat all alone,
For alas! I could not get up.

And like those rinkers rolling
Amongst their woodon piers,
A flood of thoughts came o'er me
That filled my eyes with tears.
How often, oh, how often,

In the days that had gone by,

I had waltzed in that room at midnight,
With a fixed and a vacant eye.

How often, oh, how often,

I had wished that a cab from afar,
Would bear me away in its bosom
To my rooms, and a mild cigar.

For my limbs were hot and restless,
And my boots a serious care,
And the burden of mild flirtation,
Seemed greater than I could bear.

But now it is changed and vanished,
It has fallen over the brink;
Before, we were sad, but now we are mad,
And the ball-room is turned to a rink.

Yet whenever I watch these rinkers
Amongst their wooden piers,
Like the sound of April raindrops,
Comes the thought of other years.

And I think how many thousands
Of skate-encumbered men,
Each bearing his burden of ladies,
Have rinked on this floor since then.

I see the long procession,

Still tottering to and fro,

The young feet clumsy and rapid,
The old feet clumsy and slow.

And for ever, and for ever,

As long as the raindrops fall, As long as we've angling ladies, (And angular too) at all,

The Rink and its ceaseless rollers,
And its broken limbs, shall appear
As the symbol of Bedlam's madness
And its accurate image here!

The Figaro, June 14, 1876.

KIT NUBBLES

THE WHITEFRIARGATE BRIDGE,
I.

I stood on the bridge at midnight,
As "Travis" was striking the hour;
And the moon rose o'er the city
Aslant the Dock Co.'s tower.
II.

I stood and recalled how savage,
In the day that's just gone by,

I was stopped by that bridge at midday,

« ElőzőTovább »