How blind we are! If It never Occurred to me to seek you had come for ever, The words your voice neglected, Seemed written in your eyes; The thought your heart protected, Your cheek told, missal-wise ;I read the rubric plainly As any Expert could; In short, we dreamed,-insanely, As only lovers should. I broke the tall Œnone, That then my chambers graced, Because she seemed "too bony," To suit your purist taste; And you, without vexation, May certainly confess Some graceful approbation, Designed à mon adresse. You liked me then, carina, You liked me then, I think; For your sake gall had been a Mere tonic-cup to drink; For your sake, bonds were trivial, The rack, a tour-de-force; And banishment, convivial, You coming too, of course. Then, Rose, a word in jest meant You prized my smile, I know; Then, Rose,-But why pursue it? And gulp the physic down. The song should end with this :— You left me,-left me lonely, Rosa mutabilis ! Left me, with Time for Mentor, In blankest verse disclosing My bitterness of mind,— Which is, I learn, composing In cases of the kind. No, Rose. Though you refuse me, Culture the pang prevents; "I am not made "-excuse me "Of so slight elements;" I leave to common lovers In dreams of public good. The Roses of this nation- To maids that can't be matched, No man of sensibility Should linger unattached. So, without further fashion- I sit down, sad-not daunted, A new card-"Tenant Wanted; 'OME, Laura, patience. Time and Spring COM Your absent Arthur back shall bring, Enriched with many an Indian thing Once more to woo you; Him neither wind nor wave can check, Would it were wave and wind alone! The indiscriminate cyclone, A man might parry ; But only faith, or "triple brass," Can help the "outward-bound" to pass For him fond mothers, stout and fair, Only to hold around his chair Insidious sessions; For him the eyes of daughters droop And soft confessions. Nor are these all his pains, nor most. All, all with pleased persistence show His lonely tiffin. In vain. Let doubts assail the weak; Naught can subdue his soul secure; But, Laura, on your side, forbear Albeit none more skilled can guide "Mabel." |