Punch, or the London Charivari Volume 107, August 25, 1894
( A Parodic Vote of Thanks to a Town Matron, who took a House in the Country. )
Lady Clara Shere de Shere , Through me you now shall win renown; It nearly broke my country heart To come back to the dusty town. In kindliest way, you bade me stay And nothing better I desired, But Duty with a great big D Called far too loud, and I retired.
Lady Clara Shere de Shere I wonder if you'll like your name! Oh! how you all began to chaff And laugh the moment that I came. Yet would I take more for the sake Of your dear daughter's girlish charms. A simple maiden not yet four Is good to take up in one's arms.
Lady Clara Shere de Shere, Some newer pupil you must find, Who, when you pile his plate sky-high, Will meekly say he does not mind. You sought to beat my power to eat, An empty plate was my reply. The cat you left in Grosvenor Square Is not more hungry now than I.
Lady Clara Shere de Shere, You sometimes took a mother's view, And feared lest winsome Dorothy Should learn too much from me—or you. Indeed I heard one bitter word That scarce were fit for her to hear; Our language had not that repose Which rightly fits a Shere de Shere.
Lady Clara Shere de Shere, The marriage bells rang for the Hall. The flags were flying at your door; You spoke of them with curious gall. How you decried the pretty bride And swore her dresses weren't by Worth, And gaily went to church to stare At her of far too noble birth.
Trust me, Clara Shere de Shere , The man I saw who's rather bent, The grand old gardener at your house Prefers the bride of high descent. Howe'er that be, it seems to me 'Tis all important what one eats. Milk pudding's more than caviare, And simple food than coloured sweets.
Clara, Clara Shere de Shere, If time be heavy on your hands, And there are none within your reach To play at tennis on your lands, Oh! see the tennis court is marked, And take care that it doesn't rain, Then stay at Shere another month And ask me down to stay again.
My Good Mr. Punch,—I notice that in spite of all London being out of town, a number of persons have been holding, or propose holding, a meeting condemnatory of the House of Lords. I fancy, regardless of the close of the season, the site chosen has been or will be Hyde Park. Perhaps, under these circumstances, you, as the representative of the nation—equally of the aristocracy and the democracy—will allow me a few lines' space in which to express my sentiments.
Various
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TO A SURREY HOSTESS.
A VOICE FROM "THE UPPER SUCKLES."
BYGONES.
Common (Gas) Metre.
EMBARRAS DE RICHESSES.
THE NEW AIR.
LYRE AND LANCET.
SOCIETY FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF LITERATURE
HOW IT WILL BE DONE HEREAFTER.
COUNTING THE CATCH.
TO A WOULD-BE AUTHORESS.
A MODERN TRAGEDY.
THE OYSTER AND THE SPARROW.
VERSES TO THE WEATHER MAIDEN.
THE YELLOW RIDING-HABIT.
Noble Half Hundred!!!
ROBERT AT GRINNIDGE.
THE NEXT WAR.
AN ALPINE RAILWAY.
AN ANGLO-RUSSIAN ECHO.
ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
A HAWARDEN PASTORAL;
RHYME TO ROSEBERY.
The Old (Parliamentary) Adam.