Old-world Idylls: And Other Verses

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K. Paul, Trench, 1885 - 245 psl.

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212 psl. - Love comes back to his vacant dwelling — The old, old Love that we knew of yore ! We see him stand by the open door, With his great eyes sad, and his bosom swelling. " He makes as though in our arms repelling He fain would lie, as he lay before ; Love comes back to his vacant dwelling...
19 psl. - BEAU BROCADE." " Hark ! I hear the sound of coaches / " BEGGAR'S OPERA SEVENTEEN hundred and thirty-nine :— That was the date of this tale of mine. First great GEORGE was buried and gone ; GEORGE the Second was plodding on. LONDON then, as the " Guides " aver, Shared its glories with Westminster ; And people of rank, to correct their " tone," Went out of town to Marybone.
159 psl. - Tight ere he died; — Message or wish, may be; Smooth the folds out and see. Hardly the worst of us Here could have smiled! Only the tremulous Words of a child; Prattle, that has for stops Just a few ruddy drops. Look. She is sad to miss, Morning and night, His — her dead father's — kiss; Tries to be bright, Good to mamma, and sweet. That is all. "Marguerite.
5 psl. - A place to love in, — live, — for aye, If we too, like Tithonus, Could find some God to stretch the gray, Scant life the Fates have thrown us ; " But now by steam we run our race, With buttoned heart and pocket ; Our Love 'sa gilded, surplus grace, — Just like an empty locket ! '"The time is out of joint. ' Who will, May strive to make it better ; For me, this warm old window-sill, And this old dusty letter.
4 psl. - The fresher modern traces ; For idle mallet, hoop, and ball Upon the lawn were lying ; A magazine, a tumbled shawl, Round which the swifts were flying ; And, tossed beside the Guelder rose, A heap of rainbow knitting, Where, blinking in her pleased repose, A Persian cat was sitting. " A place to love in, — live, — for aye, If we too, like Tithonus, Could find some God to stretch the gray, Scant life the Fates have thrown us; " But now by steam we run our race, With buttoned heart and pocket ;...
6 psl. - This was the matter of the note, — A long-forgot deposit, Dropped in an Indian dragon's throat, Deep in a fragrant closet, Piled with a dapper Dresden world, — Beaux, beauties, prayers, and poses, — Bonzes with squat legs undercurled, And great jars filled with roses. Ah, heart that wrote ! Ah, lips that kissed ! You had no thought or presage Into what keeping you dismissed Your simple old-world message ! A reverent one. Though we to-day...
109 psl. - Shy Ruth, all heart and tenderness, Who wept — like Chaucer's Prioress, When Dash was smitten ; Who blushed before the mildest men, Yet waxed a very Corday when You teased her kitten. I loved them all. Bell first and best ; Louise the next — for days of jest Or madcap masking; And Ruth, I thought, — why, failing these, When my High-Mightiness should please, She'd come for asking.
234 psl. - ... saints and his gilded stern-frames, He had thought like an egg-shell to crack us; Now Howard may get to his Flaccus, And Drake to his Devon again, And Hawkins bowl rubbers to Bacchus, — For where are the galleons of Spain? Let his Majesty hang to St. James The axe that he whetted to hack us; He must play at some lustier games Or at sea he can hope to out-thwack us; To his mines of Peru he would pack us To tug at his bullet and chain ; Alas! that his Greatness should lack us! — But where are...
221 psl. - WHEN I saw you last, Rose, You were only so high; — How fast the time goes! Like a bud ere it blows, You just peeped at the sky, When I saw you last, Rose!
4 psl. - So trim it was. The yew-trees still, With pious care perverted, Grew in the same grim shapes ; and still The lipless dolphin spurted ; Still in his wonted state abode The broken-nosed Apollo ; And still the cypress-arbour showed The same umbrageous hollow.

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