Volume Iv Part 5 (1/2)
When Beauty smiles, when Sorrow weeps, Where sunbeams play, where shadows darken, One inmate of our dwelling keeps Its ghastly carnival; but hearken!
How dry the rattle of the bones!
That sound was not to make you start meant: Stand by! Your humble servant owns The Tenant of this Dark Apartment.
Frederick Locker-Lampson [1821-1895]
A TERRIBLE INFANT
I recollect a nurse called Ann, Who carried me about the gra.s.s, And one fine day a fine young man Came up, and kissed the pretty la.s.s: She did not make the least objection!
Thinks I, ”Aha!
When I can talk I'll tell Mamma”
--And that's my earliest recollection.
Frederick Locker-Lampson [1821-1895]
COMPANIONS A Tale Of A Grandfather
I know not of what we pondered Or made pretty pretence to talk, As, her hand within mine, we wandered.
Toward the pool by the lime-tree walk, While the dew fell in showers from the pa.s.sion flowers And the blush-rose bent on her stalk.
I cannot recall her figure: Was it regal as Juno's own?
Or only a trifle bigger Than the elves who surround the throne Of the Fairy Queen, and are seen, I ween, By mortals in dreams alone?
What her eyes were like I know not: Perhaps they were blurred with tears; And perhaps in yon skies there glow not (On the contrary) clearer spheres.
No! as to her eyes I am just as wise As you or the cat, my dears.
Her teeth, I presume, were ”pearly”: But which was she, brunette or blonde?
Her hair, was it quaintly curly, Or as straight as a beadle's wand?
That I failed to remark: it was rather dark And shadowy round the pond.
Then the hand that reposed so snugly In mine,--was it plump or spare?
Was the countenance fair or ugly?
Nay, children, you have me there!
My eyes were p'haps blurred; and besides I'd heard That it's horribly rude to stare.
And I,--was I brusque and surly?
Or oppressively bland and fond?
Was I partial to rising early?
Or why did we twain abscond, When n.o.body knew, from the public view To prowl by a misty pond?
What pa.s.sed, what was felt or spoken,-- Whether anything pa.s.sed at all,-- And whether the heart was broken That beat under that sheltering shawl,-- (If shawl she had on, which I doubt),--has gone, Yes, gone from me past recall.
Was I haply the lady's suitor?