Imágenes de páginas

better return to the supper which I ordered at Toledo.” Thus saying, he rang a gold bell which stood on a table next the Pope. The door opened without delay, and the Moorish servant came in. The Pope looked round, and found himself in the subterraneous study under the Tagus. “Desire the cook,” said Don Julian to the maid, “to put but one partridge to roast; for I will not throw away the other on the Dean of Santiago.”


Come, maids and matrons, to caress
. Wiesbaden's gentle hind;
And, smiling, deck its glossy neck

With forest flowers entwined.
'Twas after church—on Ascension-day-

When organs ceased to sound,
Wiesbaden's people crowded gay

The deer-park's pleasant ground.
Here came a twelve years' married pair-

And with them wandered free
Seven sons and daughters, blooming fair,

A gladsome sight to see.
Their Wilhelm, little innocent,

The youngest of the seven,
Was beautiful as painters paint,

The cherubim of heaven.
By turns he gave his hand, so dear,

To parent, sister, brother,
And each, that he was safe and near,

Confided in the other.
But Wilhelm loved the field-flowers bright,

With love beyond all measure ;
And culled them with as keen delight,

As misers gather treasure.

Unnoticed, he contrived to glide

Adown a greenwood alley,
By lilies lured, that grew beside

A streamlet in the valley.

And there, where under beech and birch,

The rivulet meandered ; He strayed, till neither shout nor search,

Could track where he had wandered.

Still louder, with increasing dread,

They call his darling name;
But 'twas like speaking to the dead-

An echo only came.

Hours passed, till evening's beetle roams,

And blackbird's songs begin;
Then all went back to happy homes,

Save Wilhelm's kith and kin.

The night came on--all others slept

Their cares away till morn; But sleepless, all night watched and wept

That family forlorn.

Betimes the town-crier had been sent

With loud bell up and down; And told th' afflicting accident

Throughout Wiesbaden's town.

The news reached Nassau's duke-ere earth

Was gladdened by the lark, He sent a hundred soldiers forth

To ransack all his park.

But though they roused up beast and bird

From many a nest and den, No signal of success was heard

From all the hundred men,

A second morning's light expands,

Unfound the infant fair; And Wilhelm's household wring their hands,

Abandoned to despair.

But, haply, a poor artisan

Searched ceaselessly, till he Found safe asleep the little one

Beneath a beechen tree.

His hand still grasped a bunch of flowers;

And—true, though wondrous-near To sentry his reposing hours,

There stood a female deer,

Who dipped her horns at all that passed

The spot where Wilhelm lay;
Till force was had to hold her fast,

And bear the boy away.
To this poor wanderer of the world,

Speech, reason, were unknown-
And yet she watched a sleeping child

As if it were her own !




Oh! then they come flattering,
Soft nonsense chattering,
Praising your pickling,
Playing at tickling,
Love verses writing,
Acrostics inditing,
If your finger aches, fretting,
Fondling and petting,
“My loving,”—“ my doving,”

“ Petseying,”—“wetseying,"
Now sighing, now dying,
Now dear diamonds buying,
Or yards of chantilly, like a great big silly,
Cashmere shawls-brandy balls,
Oranges, apples,-gloves, Gros de Naples,
Sweet pretty “skuggies”-ugly pet puggies;
Now with an ear-ring themselves endearing,
Or squandering guineas upon Sevignés,
Now fingers squeezing or playfully teazing,
Bringing you bull's eyes, casting you sheep's eyes,
Looking in faces while working braces,
Never once heeding what they are reading,
But soiling one's hose by pressing one's toes;
Or else so zealous, and nice and jealous of all the fellows
Darting fierce glances if ever one dances with a son of

Or finding great faults, or threatening assaults when-

ever you “valtz;" Or fuming and fussing enough for a dozen if you romp

with your cousin ; Continually stopping, when out a-shopping, and bank

notes dropping, Not seeking to win money, calling it “ tin" money, and

promising pin money; Like pic-nics at Twickenham, off lovely cold chicken,

ham, and champagne to quicken 'em ; Detesting one's walking without John too goes stalking,

to prevent the men talking : Think you still in your teens, wont let you eat “greens,"

and hate Crinolines; Or heaping caresses, if you curl your back tresses, or

wear low-neck'd dresses; Or when up the river, almost sure to diskiver that beats

all to shiver, the sweet Guadalquiver; Or seeing death-fetches if the tooth-ache one catches,

making picturesque sketches of the houses of .

wretches; Or with loud double knocks brings from Ebers' a box,

to see “Box and Cox,” or pilfer one's locks to

mark their new stocks ; Or whilst you are singing a love song so stinging, they

vow they'll be swinging, or in Serpentine springing, unless to them clinging, you'll go wedding

ringing, and for life mend their linen. Now the gentlemen sure I've no wish to disparage, But this is the way they go on before marriage.


HOW DO THE GENTLEMEN DO AFTER MARRIAGE ? Oh! then nothing pleases 'em, But everything teazes 'em, Then they're grumbling and snarlingYou're a “fool,” not a “ darling ;" Though they're as rich as the Ingies, They're the stingiest of stingies; And what is so funny, They've never got money; Only ask 'em for any And they haven't a penny; But what passes all bounds, On themselves they'll spend poundsGive guineas for lunch Off real turtle and punch ; Each week a noise brings about, when they pitch all

the things about; Now bowing in mockery, now smashing the crockery; Scolding and swearing, their bald heads tearing; Storming and raging past all assuaging. Heaven preserve us ! it makes one so nervous, To hear the door slam to, to be called simple ma'am too ; (I wonder if Adam called Mrs. Eve Madam ;) As a matter of course they'll have a divorce ; Or “my Lord Duke" intends to send you home to your

friends, And allow ten pounds a quarter for yourself and your daughter;

« AnteriorContinuar »