Part 8 (2/2)

Then they all got blind dhrunk--which complated their bliss, And we keep up the practice from that day to this.

_Samuel Lover._

HER LITTLE FEET

Her little feet!... Beneath us ranged the sea, She sat, from sun and wind umbrella-shaded, One shoe above the other danglingly, And lo! a Something exquisitely graded, Brown rings and white, distracting--to the knee!

The band was loud. A wild waltz melody Flowed rhythmic forth. The n.o.bodies paraded.

And thro' my dream went pulsing fast and free: Her little feet.

Till she made room for some one. It was He!

A port-wine flavored He, a He who traded, Rich, rosy, round, obese to a degree!

A sense of injury overmastered me.

Quite bulbously his ample boots upbraided Her little feet.

_William Ernest Henley._

SCHOOL

If there is a vile, pernicious, Wicked and degraded rule, Tending to debase the vicious, And corrupt the harmless fool; If there is a hateful habit Making man a senseless tool, With the feelings of a rabbit And the wisdom of a mule; It's the rule which inculcates, It's the habit which dictates The wrong and sinful practice of going into school.

If there's anything improving To an erring sinner's state, Which is useful in removing All the ills of human fate; If there's any glorious custom Which our faults can dissipate, And can casually thrust 'em Out of sight and make us great; It's the plan by which we s.h.i.+rk Half our matu-ti-nal work, The glorious inst.i.tution of always being late.

_James Kenneth Stephen._

THE MILLENNIUM

TO R. K.

_As long I dwell on some stupendous And tremendous (Heaven defend us!) Monstr'-inform'-ingens-horrendous Demoniaco-seraphic Penman's latest piece of graphic._ --|Robert Browning|.

Will there never come a season Which shall rid us from the curse Of a prose which knows no reason And an unmelodious verse: When the world shall cease to wonder At the genius of an a.s.s, And a boy's eccentric blunder Shall not bring success to pa.s.s:

When mankind shall be delivered From the clash of magazines, And the inkstand shall be s.h.i.+vered Into countless smithereens: When there stands a muzzled stripling, Mute, beside a muzzled bore: When the Rudyards cease from Kipling And the Haggards Ride no more?

_James Kenneth Stephen._

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