CUPID'S ALLEY.

A MORALITY.

O, Love's but a dance,

Where Time plays the fiddle!

See the couples advance,

O, Love's but a dance!

A whisper, a glance,

"Shall we twirl down the middle?"

O, Love's but a dance,

Where Time plays the fiddle!

T runs (so saith my Chronicler)

IT

Across a smoky City;

A Babel filled with buzz and whirr,

Huge, gloomy, black and gritty; Dark-louring looks the hill-side near, Dark-yawning looks the valley,But here 'tis always fresh and clear, For here-is "Cupid's Alley."

And, from an Arbour cool and green,
With aspect down the middle,
An ancient Fiddler, gray and lean,
Scrapes on an ancient fiddle ;

CUPID'S ALLEY.

Alert he seems, but aged enow

To punt the Stygian galley;— With wisp of forelock on his brow, He plays-in "Cupid's Alley."

All day he plays,—a single tune !—
But, by the oddest chances,
Gavotte, or Brawl, or Rigadoon,
It suits all kinds of dances;
My Lord may walk a pas de Cour
To Jenny's pas de Chalet ;—

The folks who ne'er have danced before,
Can dance-in "Cupid's Alley"

And here, for ages yet untold,

Long, long before my ditty,

Came high and low, and young and old,
From out the crowded City;

And still to-day they come, they go,

And just as fancies tally,

They foot it quick, they foot it slow,

All day-in "Cupid's Alley."

Strange dance! 'Tis free to Rank and Rags;

Here no distinction flatters,

Here Riches shakes its money-bags,

And Poverty its tatters;

143

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 think of one behind her;
And one by one will stand, perchance,
Yet look all ways to find her;
Some seek a partner with a sigh,
Some win him with a sally;

And some, they know not how nor why,
Strange fate of "Cupid's Alley."

And some will dance an age or so

Who came for half a minute;

And some, who like the game, will go

Before they well begin it;

CUPID'S ALLEY.

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,
And dance no more to-morrow;

It may be one will steal away
And nurse a life-long sorrow;
What then? The rest advance, evade,
Unite, dispart, and dally,
Re-set, coquet, and gallopade,
Not less-in "Cupid's Alley."

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),
This quaint, fantastic ballet

Of Go and Stay, of Yea and Nay,
Must last-in "Cupid's Alley.”

L

145

THE IDYLL OF THE CARP.

(The SCENE is in a garden,-where you please,
So that it lie in France, and have withal
Its gray-stoned pond beneath the arching trees,
And Triton huge, with moss for coronal.
A PRINCESS,-feeding Fish. To her DENISE.)
THE PRINCESS.

`HESE, DENISE, are my Suitors!

THESE

DENISE.

Where?

THE PRINCESS.

I feed them daily here at morn and night

These fish.

With crumbs of favour,-scraps of graciousness,

Not meant, indeed, to mean the thing they wish,
But serving just to edge an appetite.

(Throwing bread.)

Make haste, Messieurs! Make haste, then! Hurry. See,--
See how they swim! Would you not say, confess,
Some crowd of Courtiers in the audience hall,

When the King comes?

DENISE.

You're jesting!