More empty things, I fear, than rhymes, And painful truth-at times, to him, Whose jog-trot thought is nowise restive, "A primrose by a river's brim " Is absolutely unsuggestive. The fickle Muse! As ladies will, She flies the more that we pursue her; But cannot comfortably show it. You thought, no doubt, the garden-scent Brings back some brief-winged bright sensation Of love that came and love that went, 470789 Or else you thought, the murmuring noon, He turns it to a lyric sweeter, With birds that gossip in the tune, And windy bough-swing in the metre ; Or else the zigzag fruit-tree arms Recall some dream of harp-prest bosoms, Round singing mouths, and chanted charms, And mediæval orchard blossoms, Quite à la mode. Alas for prose ! - And chased the kitten round the beeches, Till widening instincts made me wish For certain slowly-ripening peaches. Three peaches. Not the Graces three I would not look, yet went to see; Or Two of them. Forthwith Despair- Where I might hide and dwell forgotten, Absolved from brushes and ablution ; But, ere my sylvan haunt was gained, Fate gave me up to execution. I saw it all but now. The grin That gnarled old Gardener Sandy's features; My father, scholar-like and thin, Unroused, the tenderest of creatures; My dear and deprecating mother; And then, remembering the cane, Regretted that I'd left the Other. ΙΟΙ TU QUOQUE. AN IDYLL IN THE CONSERVATORY. 66 · romprons-nous, Ou ne romprons-nous pas ?" LE DÉPIT AMOUREUX. NELLIE. FI were you, when ladies at the play, sir, IF Beckon and nod, a melodrama through, I would not turn abstractedly away, sir, If I were you! FRANK. If I were you, when persons I affected, If I were you! NELLIE. If I were you, when ladies are so lavish, I would not dance with odious Miss M'Tavish If I were you! FRANK. If I were you, who vow you cannot suffer Whiff of the best, the mildest "honey-dew," I would not dance with smoke-consuming Puffer, If I were you! NELLIE. If I were you, I would not, sir, be bitter, FRANK. No, I should doubtless find flirtation fitter, NELLIE. Really! You would? Why, Frank, you 're quite delightful, Hot as Othello, and as black of hue; Borrow my fan. I would not look so frightful, If I were you! FRANK. "It is the cause." I mean your chaperon is |