TO MY SCOUT.
After a smash (and Tennyson).
BREAK, break, break!
Plate, decanter, and glass!
It's enough to worry a cherub,
And loosen the tongue of an ass.
It's all very well to declare
That your "helbow" caught in the door,
And your "fut" must 'ave 'itched in a nail,
And you're very sorry, you're sure.
And I'm very hard up just now,
Three troublesome duns to stop,
But I wish I'd only got half the coin
I've paid to that china-shop.
Break, break, break!
You must order another new set.
It's good for trade; but I'd like to know
What is the commission you get?
From Odd Echoes from Oxford, 1872.
Here is another in a similar vein:—
Break, break, break,
My cups and my saucers, O scout!
And I'm glad that my tongue can't utter
The oaths that my soul points out.
It's well for the china-shop man,
Who gets a fresh order each day;
And deucedly well for yourself,
Who are in the said china-man's pay.
And my stately vases go
To your uncle's, I ween, to be cashed;
But it's O for the light of my broken lamp,
And the tick of my clock that is smashed.
Break, break, break!
At the foot of thy stairs in glee;
But the coin I have spent in glass that is smashed
Will never come back to me.
From the "Shotover Papers," Oxford, 1875.