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Church, Army, Navy, Physic, Law ;—
Maid, Mistress, Master, Valet;
Long locks, gray hairs, bald heads, and a’,— They bob-in "Cupid's Alley.”
Strange pairs! To laughing, fresh Fifteen
Here capers Prudence thrifty;
Here Prodigal leads down the green
A blushing Maid of fifty;
Some treat it as a serious thing,
And some but shilly-shally;
And some have danced without the ring (Ah me!)—in "Cupid's Alley.”
And sometimes one to one will dance,
And one by one will stand, perchance,
And some, they know not how nor why,
And some will dance an age or so
And some, who like the game, will go
And some will vow they're "danced to death,"
Who (somehow) always rally;
Strange cures are wrought (mine author saith), Strange cures !-in "Cupid's Alley."
It may be one will dance to-day,
It may be one will steal away
For till that City's wheel-work vast
And shuddering beams shall crumble ;-
And till that Fiddler lean at last
From off his seat shall tumble ;
Till then (the Civic records say),
THE IDYLL OF THE CARP.
(The SCENE is in a garden,-where you please,
HESE, DENISE, are my Suitors!
I feed them daily here at morn and night
With crumbs of favour,-scraps of graciousness,
Not meant, indeed, to mean the thing they wish,
Make haste, Messieurs! Make haste, then! Hurry. See,―
When the King comes?
Not at all.
Watch but the great one yonder! There's the Duke ;—
Those gill-marks mean his Order of St. Luke;
Those old skin-stains his boasted quarterings.
Look what a swirl and roll of tide he brings;
Have you not marked him thus, with crest in air,
You surely have, DENISE.
I think I have.
But there's another, older and more grave,
The one that wears the round patch on the throat,
Why that's my good chambellan—with his seal.
In quaint devices at refection-hours,
Equips my sweet-pouch, brings me morning flowers,
Or chirrups madrigals with old, sweet words,
Look, Madam, look!—a fish without a stain !
O speckless, fleckless fish! Who is it, pray,
You know him not? My prince of shining locks!
Ai! what a splash!
Who is it comes with such a sudden dash
Plump i' the midst, and leaps the others clear?
Ho! for a trumpet! Let the bells be rung!
Got in a brawl that stands for Spanish war:-