THE TELEPHONIC LOVE-SONG.

Love, are you there? Most patiently I've waited

To hear the answering tinkle on my bell;

Have then the central offices belated

Not switched me on as yet to thy hotel?

Or is—oh, bitter thought!—a rival hated

Addressing thee by telephone as well?

Love, are you there? Distracted I repine;

Oh, hear thy humble four-nought-seven-nine!

Never three-five-nine-six have I addressed,

The number registered for Mrs. Jones,

Nor for six-eight-two-one the button pressed

To woo Miss Brown in telephonic tones;

So grant, I pray, my moderate request,

Nor keep me waiting thus with aching bones,

My anxious ear pressed to the tube with care,

While vainly I re-echo, "Are you there?"

The suitor in the happier days of old,

When he would woo his lady-love divine,

Beneath her window his affection told

In skilful verse and neatly-balanced line;

And even if he sometimes caught a cold,

His was a less prosaic way than mine;

Then they'd embrace—no doubt it was not proper,

But I can only kiss a plate of copper!

Oh come, my love, and speak to me again,

Say that you live for my unworthy sake,

And kindly make each syllable quite plain,

To guard against all subsequent mistake;

And soon may fortune re-unite us twain,

Communication never more to break!

Take up your tube in answer to my prayer;

Once more I speak my greeting—Are you there?