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Go, if you will. At once! And by express, sir!
No, I remain. To stay and fight a duel
Seems, on the whole, the proper thing to doAh, you are strong,-I would not then be cruel, If I were you!
One does not like one's feelings to be doubted,——
One does not like one's friends to misconstrue,
If I confess that I a wee-bit pouted ?—
I should admit that I was piqué, too.
Ask me to dance.
I'd say no more about it,
A DIALOGUE FROM PLATO.
"Le temps le mieux employé est celui qu'on perd." CLAUDE TILLIER.
"D"read" three hours. Both notes and text
In bounced a vagrant bee, perplexed,
Then out. The casement's leafage sways,
Miss Di., with hat and book,- -a maze
"You're reading Greek?" "I am- -and you?" "O, mine's a mere romancer !" "So Plato is." "Then read him-do; And I'll read mine in answer."
I read. "My Plato (Plato, too,—
She smiled. "My book in turn avers
(No author's name is stated) That sometimes those Philosophers Are sadly mis-translated."
"But hear, the next 's in stronger style : The Cynic School asserted
That two red lips which part and smile
She smiled once more-" My book, I find, Observes some modern doctors
Would make the Cynics out a kind
Then I-" Why not? Ephesian law,
"If Plato's page
She blushed-this time.
No wiser precept teaches,
"Agreed," I said. "For Socrates (I find he too is talking)
Thinks Learning can't remain at ease
She read no more. I leapt the sill:
THE ROMAUNT OF THE ROSE.
OOR Rose! I lift you from the streetFar better I should own you, Than you should lie for random feet, Where careless hands have thrown you!
Poor pinky petals, crushed and torn!
Did heartless Mayfair use you, Then cast you forth to lie forlorn, For chariot wheels to bruise you?
I saw you last in Edith's hair.
Rose, you would scarce discover That I she passed upon the stair Was Edith's favoured lover,
A month-"a little month "-ago-
'Twixt you and me, my Rose, you know,
She might have been politer;
But let that pass.
She gave you then