Part 123 (1/2)

”Ho ho, ho ho, my Cupids all,”

Said Love, the little Admiral.

Mock sighs, too,--kept in bags for use, Like breezes bought of Lapland seers,-- Lay ready here to be let loose, When wanted, in young spinsters' ears.

”Ha ha, ha ha, my Cupids all,”

Said Love, the little Admiral.

False papers next on board were found, Sham invoices of flames and darts, Professedly for Paphos bound, But meant for Hymen's golden marts.

”For shame, for shame, my Cupids all!”

Said Love, the little Admiral.

Nay, still to every fraud awake, Those pirates all Love's signals knew, And hoisted oft his flag, to make Rich wards and heiresses _bring-to_.[1]

”A foe, a foe, my Cupids all!”

Said Love, the little Admiral.

”This must not be,” the boy exclaims, ”In vain I rule the Paphian seas, ”If Love's and Beauty's sovereign names ”Are lent to cover frauds like these.

”Prepare, prepare, my Cupids all!”

Said Love, the little Admiral.

Each Cupid stood with lighted match-- A broadside struck the smuggling foe, And swept the whole unhallowed batch Of Falsehood to the depths below.

”Huzza, huzza! my Cupids all!”

Said Love the little Admiral.

[1] ”_To Bring-to_, to check the course of a s.h.i.+p.”--_Falconer_.

STILL THOU FLIEST.

Still thou fliest, and still I woo thee, Lovely phantom,--all in vain; Restless ever, my thoughts pursue thee, Fleeting ever, thou mock'st their pain.

Such doom, of old, that youth betided, Who wooed, he thought, some angel's charms, But found a cloud that from him glided,-- As thou dost from these outstretched arms.

Scarce I've said, ”How fair thou s.h.i.+nest,”

Ere thy light hath vanished by; And 'tis when thou look'st divinest Thou art still most sure to fly.