MOVING.

(A Suburban Elegy.)

When I remember I shall tread no more

In such a short time now the well-known street,

And never to these ears shall sound the roar

Of Perkins' cart-wheels, dangerously fleet,

Bringing the boon of Ceres to the door,

Nor those of Batson (Batson is the meat);—

When I recall that in the hours to come

My eyes may never see the shape of Pott

Planting his fish down, then methinks it's rum

That mortal men should move and be forgot

By those that serve their household daily, some

Sending the right delivery, some not.

Full often on my homeward way I pause

Where Jones is standing at his shop-front trim;

We pass remarks about the nation's laws

And how it still keeps up, though skies are grim;

And Jones is most polite to me, because

We've always got our groceries from him.

But the old orders soon shall cease to be,

And I must pass into an unknown land,

And at the corner by The Holly Tree

Where now he lifts a ceremonious hand

Yon constable shall scarce remember me,

Not that he ever——Quite. You understand.

And alien lips from mine must move to swear

Over the mangled remnants of a shirt

Brutally done to death with fiendish care

By yon steam laundry. Last I come to Bert;

Bert's is the best known face in all the Square,

Being the milk, and something more—a flirt.

Yes, for not only bleeds this heart of mine;

There shall be tenderer spasms when we shift,

Such bits of cheek, such observations fine,

Such honied whispers have been heard to drift

From Susan at the casement of her shrine

To Romeo managing the tradesmen's lift.

Hers shall be all the loss; he'll soon forget.

Others shall ope accounts when we are gone;

Movings are all too frequent for regret;

Yet one methinks there is shall dream upon

Our name with soft remembrance, guard it yet

Like some pressed violet. I refer to John.

I know our postal service, know full well,

Though we have told them to what bourn we flit,

How many a missive shall obey the spell

Of the old false address inscribed on it.

And John shall bring them. And John's heart shall swell

For Harriet while he stuffs them through the slit.

Evoe.