But, oh! the best of worldly joys is as a dream short-lived: 'Tis twelve o'clock, and Robinson reports our cab arrived. A last libation ere we part, and hands all round, and then A cordial invitation to us both to come again. So home through Piccadilly and through Oxford Street we jog, On slippery, noisy pavements and in blinding, choking fog,-- The same old route through Circus, Square, and Quadrant we retrace, Till we reach the princely mansion known as 20 Alfred Place; And then we seek our feathery beds of cotton to renew In dreams the sweet distractions of The Boltons, 22.
God bless you, good friend Isaac, and your lovely, gracious wife; May health and wealth attend you, and happiness, through life; And as you sit of evenings that quiet room within, Know that in spirit I shall be your guest as I have been. So fill and place beside that chair that dainty claret-cup; Methinks that ghostly hands shall take the tempting offering up, That ghostly lips shall touch the bowl and quaff the ruby wine, Pledging in true affection this toast to thee and thine: "May God's best blessings fall as falls the gentle, gracious dew Upon the kindly household at The Boltons, 22!"
DEAR wife, last midnight, whilst I read The tomes you so despise, A spectre rose beside the bed, And spake in this true wise: "From Canaan's beatific coast I've come to visit thee, For I am Frognall Dibdin's ghost," Says Dibdin's ghost to me.
I bade him welcome, and we twain Discussed with buoyant hearts The various things that appertain To bibliomaniac arts. "Since you are fresh from t' other side, Pray tell me of that host That treasured books before they died," Says I to Dibdin's ghost.
"They've entered into perfect rest; For in the life they've won There are no auctions to molest, No creditors to dun. Their heavenly rapture has no bounds Beside that jasper sea; It is a joy unknown to Lowndes," Says Dibdin's ghost to me.
Much I rejoiced to hear him speak Of biblio-bliss above, For I am one of those who seek What bibliomaniacs love. "But tell me, for I long to hear What doth concern me most, Are wives admitted to that sphere?" Says I to Dibdin's ghost.
"The women folk are few up there; For 'twere not fair, you know, That they our heavenly joy should share Who vex us here below. The few are those who have been kind To husbands such as we; They knew our fads, and didn't mind," Says Dibdin's ghost to me.