[Illustration: "THE DOGGIE CEASED HIS NOISE"]
Then sadly spake that ladye fair, Wi' a frown upon her brow: "O dearer to me is my sma' doggie Than a dozen sic' as thou!
"Nae use, nae use for sighs and tears: Nae use at all to fret: Sin' ye've bided sae well for thirty years, Ye may bide a wee langer yet!"
Sadly, sadly he crossed the floor And tirlëd at the pin: Sadly went he through the door Where sadly he cam' in.
"O gin I had a popinjay To fly abune my head, To tell me what I ought to say, I had by this been wed.
"O gin I find anither ladye," He said wi' sighs and tears, "I wot my coortin' sall not be Anither thirty years:
"For gin I find a ladye gay, Exactly to my taste, I'll pop the question, aye or nay, In twenty years at maist."
[These consist of two Double Acrostics and two Charades.
No. I. was written at the request of some young friends, who had gone to a ball at an Oxford Commemoration--and also as a specimen of what might be done by making the Double Acrostic _a connected poem_ instead of what it has hitherto been, a string of disjointed stanzas, on every conceivable subject, and about as interesting to read straight through as a page of a Cyclopædia. The first two stanzas describe the two main words, and each subsequent stanza one of the cross "lights."
No. II. was written after seeing Miss Ellen Terry perform in the play of "Hamlet." In this case the first stanza describes the two main words.
No. III. was written after seeing Miss Marion Terry perform in Mr. Gilbert's play of "Pygmalion and Galatea." The three stanzas respectively describe "My First," "My Second," and "My Whole."]
There was an ancient City, stricken down With a strange frenzy, and for many a day They paced from morn to eve the crowded town, And danced the night away.
I asked the cause: the aged man grew sad: They pointed to a building gray and tall, And hoarsely answered "Step inside, my lad, And then you'll see it all."
Yet what are all such gaieties to me Whose thoughts are full of indices and surds? x{ 2} + 7x + 53 = 11/3.
But something whispered "It will soon be done: Bands cannot always play, nor ladies smile: Endure with patience the distasteful fun For just a little while!"
A change came o'er my Vision--it was night: We clove a pathway through a frantic throng: The steeds, wild-plunging, filled us with affright: The chariots whirled along.