TO A BANTLING.
(Lines written to a Lady who "Banted.")
Some rhymes to make you laugh? I can't
Drop, Wegg-like, into rhyme instanter.
It's easiness itself to bant,
Comparatively hard to banter.
The many pretty things I'd say,
The pleasant thoughts I'd like to utter,
I may not do, it seems to-day—
You scorn the bare idea of butter!
"Sweets to the sweet." Not long ago,
Why chocolates—you'd gladly greet them.
Now you've abandoned them, and so
You never (hardly ever) eat them.
To see you drink hot water—that
The very stoniest heart would soften,
You evidently think it flat,
You're in it—aren't you—much too often?
Yet whether 9st. 12, as when
You weighed that day at Margate Station,
Or 10st. 7, or 7st. 10,
I can't pretend to indignation.
To bant from early morn till late
May be, of course, supremely right of you;
But if you feel oppressed by weight,
Would it not do if we made light of you?
Though that I swear I will not do,
Let others, if they like, make bold to—
I merely write these rhymes for you,
I always do just what I'm told to!
But if you cease to peak and pine
(For Time the Banting Conscience hardens),
You will not fail to drop a line—
My chambers are in Temple Gardens.