Part 3 (1/2)

Ballad: TO MY BRIDE--(WHOEVER SHE MAY BE.)

Oh! little maid!--(I do not know your name Or who you are, so, as a safe precaution I'll add)--Oh, buxom widow! married dame!

(As one of these must be your present portion) Listen, while I unveil prophetic lore for you, And sing the fate that Fortune has in store for you.

You'll marry soon--within a year or twain - A bachelor of circa two and thirty: Tall, gentlemanly, but extremely plain, And when you're intimate, you'll call him ”BERTIE.”

Neat--dresses well; his temper has been cla.s.sified As hasty; but he's very quickly pacified.

You'll find him working mildly at the Bar, After a touch at two or three professions, From easy affluence extremely far, A brief or two on Circuit--”soup” at Sessions; A pound or two from whist and backing horses, And, say three hundred from his own resources.

Quiet in harness; free from serious vice, His faults are not particularly shady, You'll never find him ”SHY”--for, once or twice Already, he's been driven by a lady, Who parts with him--perhaps a poor excuse for him - Because she hasn't any further use for him.

Oh! bride of mine--tall, dumpy, dark, or fair!

Oh! widow--wife, maybe, or blus.h.i.+ng maiden, I've told YOUR fortune; solved the gravest care With which your mind has. .h.i.therto been laden.

I've prophesied correctly, never doubt it; Now tell me mine--and please be quick about it!

You--only you--can tell me, an' you will, To whom I'm destined shortly to be mated, Will she run up a heavy modiste's bill?

If so, I want to hear her income stated (This is a point which interests me greatly).

To quote the bard, ”Oh! have I seen her lately?”

Say, must I wait till husband number one Is comfortably stowed away at Woking?

How is her hair most usually done?

And tell me, please, will she object to smoking?

The colour of her eyes, too, you may mention: Come, Sibyl, prophesy--I'm all attention.

Ballad: SIR MACKLIN.

Of all the youths I ever saw None were so wicked, vain, or silly, So lost to shame and Sabbath law, As worldly TOM, and BOB, and BILLY.

For every Sabbath day they walked (Such was their gay and thoughtless natur) In parks or gardens, where they talked From three to six, or even later.

SIR MACKLIN was a priest severe In conduct and in conversation, It did a sinner good to hear Him deal in ratiocination.

He could in every action show Some sin, and n.o.body could doubt him.

He argued high, he argued low, He also argued round about him.

He wept to think each thoughtless youth Contained of wickedness a skinful, And burnt to teach the awful truth, That walking out on Sunday's sinful.

”Oh, youths,” said he, ”I grieve to find The course of life you've been and hit on - Sit down,” said he, ”and never mind The pennies for the chairs you sit on.

”My opening head is 'Kensington,'

How walking there the sinner hardens, Which when I have enlarged upon, I go to 'Secondly'--its 'Gardens.'