s

BAGATELLES.

HE wanton bee that suck'd the rose
Has lured a leaf away;

The love that in my bosom glows
Must stay, and stay, and stay.

And when the rose began to die,
The bee ran up away;
But Kitty in my love shall lie.
Beyond the dying day.

I'd like to be the lavender

That makes her linen sweet,
And swoon and sweeten in her breast,
And faint around her feet.

She'd hardly think of me at all,

And shake out lawn and sheet;

And yet I'd be the lavender

And make her linen sweet.

THEOPHILE MARZIALS.

I

TRAGEDIES.

HE reach'd a rosebud from the tree,
And bit the tip and threw it by ;
My little rose, for you and me,

The worst is over when we die !

For love is like the China-rose

That leafs so quickly from the tree ;And life, though all the honey goes, Lasts ever, like the pot pourri.

She was only a woman, famish'd for loving,
Mad with devotion, and such slight things
And he was a very great musician,

And used to finger his fiddle-strings.

Her heart's sweet gamut is cracking and breaking For a look, for a touch,-for such slight things; But he's such a very great musician,

Grimacing and fing'ring his fiddle-strings.

In the middle of my garden-bed,
There stands a tall rose-tree;

I took the stem, and shook and shook it,
Thick the flowers kept covering me.

And oh! I said, you sweet large roses,

Red as rose can be,

Just drop into my bosom here,

And die along with me!

THEOPHILE MARZIALS.

MAJOLICA AND ROCOCO.

@HEN I was by Chloe kiss'd,
Ceased or 'gan I to exist?

If 'twas life before without her,
What is this to be about her?

If angels love above in heaven,

Then death must be too oversweet, For this dear love thy lips have given, Has made this life, my love, replete.

The rose of her cheek may wane and die,
Her hair's gold fibre dull and decay ;
But love has a colour not fused to fly,
In the fabric that never shall wear away.

THEOPHILE MARZIALS.

BABY.

HERE did you come from, baby dear?
Out of the everywhere into here.

Where did you get those eyes so blue?
Out of the sky as I came through.

What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?
Some of the starry spikes left in.

Where did you get that little tear?

I found it waiting when I got here.

What makes your forehead so smooth and high? A soft hand stroked it as I went by.

What makes your cheek like a warm white rose?
I saw something better than any one knows.

Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?
Three angels gave me at once a kiss.

Where did you get this pearly ear?
God spoke and it came out to hear.