Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Reviews.
fiiio d' Ash spumante , agom—With bright eyes to flash o ' er the cheer . At the inn of Signora Marcionni , The sunniest day of last year . "Then that night at Baveno , Avhilstsmoldng , When Some-one lit my cigarette
, To be found by mama 'twas provoking—Your eyes flashed a tearful regret : R she bore you aAvay in a hurry , Despite all excuse I could make ! And said , quoting from odious Murray , ' Night ah- Avas so bad by the lake . '
" Will you dream 'neath a snoAvy umbrella , With Tauchnitz each hot afternoon 1 Will you go to the Isola Bella , Or TOAV by the lig ht of the moon 1 Will you lounge ' ncath the pink oleander , Comparing this year with the last 1 Will e ' er less in the garden meander , And think Avith regret of the past ?
11 When the fragrance of floAvers is lightly AAvaft on the soft evening breeze , Whilst tho pale moon is shining so brightly And sAveet is the music of trees ? Will you muse , in that clear autumn Aveather , With feelings of pleasure and pain 1 Will you stroll where Ave Avandered together , To Avish but last year back again ?
" Perhaps memory s clearest reflection May mirror your future ; but yet You may dwell on Avith tender affection That night I can never forget ; When I would have said something , but AVavered—HOAV quickly such chances slip by !—Ah ! my darling , had I been so favoured , Pray Avhat Avould have been your reply 1 "
The lines Avhich & 11 OAV appeal to many sympathies , and fond recollections , as Avell as to much that softens and elevates this depressing Avorld of ours : — "THE KING OF THE CRADLE : " A Baby IdyU . 1
DraAV back the cradle-curtains , Kate , While Avatch and AVard you ' re keeping , bet ' s see the monarch in his state , And vieAV him Avhilst he ' s sleeping . " ° smiles and clasps his tiny hand With sunbeams o ' er him gleaming—A world of baby fairyland He visits Avhile he ' s dreaming .
" Monarch of pearly powder puff Asleep in nest so cosy , Shielded from breath of breezes rough By curtains Avarm and rosy ; He slumbers soundly in his cell , As Aveak as one decrepid , Though King of Coral , Lord of Bell , And Knight of Bath that's tepid .
" Ah , lucky tyrant ! Happy lot ! Fan Avatchers AA'ithout number , Who sAveetly sing beside his cot , Ancl hush him off to slumber ; White hands in wait to smooth so neat His pilloAV Avhen it ' s rumpled—A couch of rose leaves soft and SAveet , Not one of Avhich is crumpled .
" Will yonder dainty , dimpled hand-Size nothing and a quarter—E ' er grasp a sabre , lead a band , To glory and to slaughter 1 Or , may I ask , Avill those blue eyes—In baby patois , ' peepers 'E ' er in the House of Commons rise , And strive to catch the Speaker ' s 1
" Will that smooth brow o er Hansard frown Confused by lore statistic 1 Or will those lips o ' er stir the town From pulpit ritualistic 1 Will e ' er that tiny Sybarite Become an author noted 1 That little brain the world's deli ght , Its ivork by all men quoted ?
" Though rosy , dimpled , plump , andjround , Though fragile , soft , and tender , Sometimes , alas ! it may be found The thread of life is slender ! A little shoe , a bitten glove—Affection never waning—The shattered idol of our love Is all that is remaining !
" Then does one chance , in fancy , hear Small feet in childish patter , Tread soft as they a grave draw near , And voices hush their chatter ; 'Tis small and new ; they pause in fear , Beneath the grey church tower , To consecrate it by a tear , And deck it Avith a floAver .
" Who can predict the future , Kate —> Your fondest aspiration 1 Who knows the solemn kvws of fate , That govern our creation 1
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Reviews.
fiiio d' Ash spumante , agom—With bright eyes to flash o ' er the cheer . At the inn of Signora Marcionni , The sunniest day of last year . "Then that night at Baveno , Avhilstsmoldng , When Some-one lit my cigarette
, To be found by mama 'twas provoking—Your eyes flashed a tearful regret : R she bore you aAvay in a hurry , Despite all excuse I could make ! And said , quoting from odious Murray , ' Night ah- Avas so bad by the lake . '
" Will you dream 'neath a snoAvy umbrella , With Tauchnitz each hot afternoon 1 Will you go to the Isola Bella , Or TOAV by the lig ht of the moon 1 Will you lounge ' ncath the pink oleander , Comparing this year with the last 1 Will e ' er less in the garden meander , And think Avith regret of the past ?
11 When the fragrance of floAvers is lightly AAvaft on the soft evening breeze , Whilst tho pale moon is shining so brightly And sAveet is the music of trees ? Will you muse , in that clear autumn Aveather , With feelings of pleasure and pain 1 Will you stroll where Ave Avandered together , To Avish but last year back again ?
" Perhaps memory s clearest reflection May mirror your future ; but yet You may dwell on Avith tender affection That night I can never forget ; When I would have said something , but AVavered—HOAV quickly such chances slip by !—Ah ! my darling , had I been so favoured , Pray Avhat Avould have been your reply 1 "
The lines Avhich & 11 OAV appeal to many sympathies , and fond recollections , as Avell as to much that softens and elevates this depressing Avorld of ours : — "THE KING OF THE CRADLE : " A Baby IdyU . 1
DraAV back the cradle-curtains , Kate , While Avatch and AVard you ' re keeping , bet ' s see the monarch in his state , And vieAV him Avhilst he ' s sleeping . " ° smiles and clasps his tiny hand With sunbeams o ' er him gleaming—A world of baby fairyland He visits Avhile he ' s dreaming .
" Monarch of pearly powder puff Asleep in nest so cosy , Shielded from breath of breezes rough By curtains Avarm and rosy ; He slumbers soundly in his cell , As Aveak as one decrepid , Though King of Coral , Lord of Bell , And Knight of Bath that's tepid .
" Ah , lucky tyrant ! Happy lot ! Fan Avatchers AA'ithout number , Who sAveetly sing beside his cot , Ancl hush him off to slumber ; White hands in wait to smooth so neat His pilloAV Avhen it ' s rumpled—A couch of rose leaves soft and SAveet , Not one of Avhich is crumpled .
" Will yonder dainty , dimpled hand-Size nothing and a quarter—E ' er grasp a sabre , lead a band , To glory and to slaughter 1 Or , may I ask , Avill those blue eyes—In baby patois , ' peepers 'E ' er in the House of Commons rise , And strive to catch the Speaker ' s 1
" Will that smooth brow o er Hansard frown Confused by lore statistic 1 Or will those lips o ' er stir the town From pulpit ritualistic 1 Will e ' er that tiny Sybarite Become an author noted 1 That little brain the world's deli ght , Its ivork by all men quoted ?
" Though rosy , dimpled , plump , andjround , Though fragile , soft , and tender , Sometimes , alas ! it may be found The thread of life is slender ! A little shoe , a bitten glove—Affection never waning—The shattered idol of our love Is all that is remaining !
" Then does one chance , in fancy , hear Small feet in childish patter , Tread soft as they a grave draw near , And voices hush their chatter ; 'Tis small and new ; they pause in fear , Beneath the grey church tower , To consecrate it by a tear , And deck it Avith a floAver .
" Who can predict the future , Kate —> Your fondest aspiration 1 Who knows the solemn kvws of fate , That govern our creation 1