"Dames most delicate, amorous !

Damosels blithe as the belted bees!

Hearken awhile to the prayer of us,

Beggars that come from the over-seas!

Nothing we ask of the things that please;

Weary are we, and worn, and gray;

Lo, for we clutch and we clasp your knees,

Give us-ah! give us-but Yesterday !"

"Damosels-Dames, be piteous!"

(But the dames rode fast by the roadway trees.)

"Hear us, O Knights magnanimous !"

(But the knights pricked on in their panoplies.)

Nothing they gat or of hope or ease,

But only to beat on the breast and say :

"Life we drank to the dregs and lees;

Give us-ah! give us-but Yesterday!

Envoy.

YOUTH, take heed to the prayer of these!

Many there be by the dusty way,—

Many that cry to the rocks and seas

"Give us-ah! give us-but Yesterday!"

"POOR MISS TO X."

It was an ancient Shepherdess,
Forlorn amid the flocks;

The tears she shed for loneliness

Would melt the hardest rocks.

IN Dickens 'twas "Princess's Place,"

But here 'tis "Maiden Row,"

And yet 'tis still the self-same face,

The self-same air I know:

'Tis true the name is plainly " Brown,"

'Tis true the flowers are "stocks,"

And

yet I'd wager half-a-crown

That you are "poor Miss Tox!"

There can't, of course, be more than one ;

The cases must be rare

Of maidens left to nurse alone

Dyspepsia and Despair;

Ah no; that gown of youthful make

Those tresses dark as Nox,

Those arching brows,-I can't mistake,

You must be "poor Miss Tox!"

And then your daily ways:—I know

Exactly when you dust

The two old candlesticks of Bow

And good John Wesley's bust;

Exactly as your tea is spread

I set my pair of clocks;

(You take your morning meal in bed,

I fear-my "poor Miss Tox!")

I see you knit, I see you hem,

I see you painting flowers,

I see you read "Affection's Gem,"

Exhaustively, for hours.

And once-I own 'twas somewhat late

I saw you. . comb your locks;

Why was not mine Acteon's fate,
O Artemis-and Tox!

But still I look and still I see

That still the days evoke

No youth of artless modesty

Impatient for the yoke :

For "men may come, and men may go,”

But ne'er a suitor knocks

At that green door in "Maiden Row,"

To ask for―" poor Miss Tox!"