Arrived, woman's constancy blessing, No end of nice people I see, Some hither, some thitherwards pressing, But none of them waiting for me.

Time pa.s.ses, my watch how I con it, I see her-she's coming-no, stuff!

Instead of Kate's smart little bonnet, It is aunt and her wonderful m.u.f.f!

(Yes! Fortune deserves to be chidden, It is a coincidence queer, Whenever one wants to be hidden, One's relatives always appear.)

Near nine! how the pa.s.sers despise me, They smile at my anguish, I think; And even the sentinel eyes me, And tips that policeman the wink.

Ah! Kate made me promises solemn, At eight she had vow'd to be mine; While waiting for one at this column, I find I've been waiting for nine.

O Fame! on thy pillar so steady, Some dupes watch beneath thee in vain: How many have done it already!

How many will do it again!

THE FOUR SEASONS

Two wayward imps, all smiles or tears, With large round eyes of ceaseless wonder, Small pitchers with extensive ears, And fingers p.r.o.ne to urchin plunder.

Two whisp'ring lovers-blissful pair!

Is _he_ the rogue? or hath she trick'd him?

Unless he dupes his mistress there, The chances are, he'll fall a victim.

Two toiling ones of sober age (Their bet with Care a losing wager); They own, though now so very sage, They might have been a trifle sager!

Two frail old wretches, sick and sad, Yet sore dismayed lest Death should take them, -Come, hang it, things, though pa.s.sing bad, Are not so bad as some would make them:

For, like yon clock, when twelve shall sound, The call these poor old souls obeying, Together shall _their_ hands be found, An earnest they are humbly praying!

ENIGMA

He met her with her milking-cans, Too fast the moments speeded, For while they chat on this and that My _first_ may low unheeded.

And was she call'd a forward jade, And was he graceless reckon'd, Because he stopt the dairy-maid, Enchanted by my _second_?

Though stars in thousands stud the pole, The fields own stars as yellow, And when I gave that last my _whole_, She thank'd a happy fellow.

But she was call'd a forward jade, And I was graceless reckon'd;- I only kiss'd that dairy-maid, Enraptur'd by my _second_.

ENIGMA

Toll, toll the bell, its iron tongue Is weighty as my _second_, Dig, dig the grave, to life he clung, But now his days are reckon'd.

Old man, who'll ring a knell for thee, Or dress thy couch of clay?

Why didst not thou thy death foresee, And dig it for to-day?

King Death his journeyman demands, On all he works his worst: His dart he's flung at old and young,- Death heedeth not my _first_.

Old man, thou'st dug some scores of graves, Who'll turn the mould for thine?

And when this spade thy bed hath made, Who'll lift a spade at mine?

TO THE PRINTER'S DEVIL

Small imp of blackness, off at once, Expend thy mirth as likes thee best: Thy toil is over for the nonce; Yes, "opus operatum est."

When dreary authors vex thee sore, Thy Mentor's old, and would remind thee That if thy griefs are all before, Thy pleasures are not all behind thee.

THE END

NOTES

The Castle in the Air. Last published in 1872.

The Cradle. Last published in 1878.

O Tempora Mutantur. Written in 1856: last published in 1893: omitted from the 1881 edition. In 1893 the last stanza is different: I have quoted from it in the Introduction.

Piccadilly. Last published in 1893. After the words "If 'yes,'

Piccadilly," the 1893 version is as follows:-

"From Primrose balcony, long ages ago 'Old Q' sat at gaze,-who now pa.s.ses below?

A frolicsome statesman, the Man of the Day,"

etc.

The Old Clerk. Written in 1856: last published in 1893: omitted in 1881.

The final version (t.i.tle, "The Old Government Clerk") is a good deal elaborated, and a stanza added.

The Garter. Last published in 1878. In the 1862 and subsequent editions the t.i.tle is "Arcadia."

Pilgrims of Pall Mall. Written in 1856: last published in 1893. The first lines of the fifth stanza run, as finally revised:

"I often wander up and down, When morning bathes the silent town In dewy glory";