HYMEN AND CUPID.
(Fin-de-Siècle Version, some way after Moore.)
HYMEN, late, his love-knots selling,
Called at many a maiden's dwelling;
But he found too well they knew him;
None were prompter to pooh-pooh him.
"Who'll buy my love-knots?
Who'll buy my love-knots?"
Soon as that old cry resounded.
How his baskets were surrounded!
Maidens mocked, with laughter dying,
Those fool-knots of HYMEN's tying;
Dames, who once with him had sided,
Openly his wares derided.
"Who'll buy my love-knots?
Who'll buy my love-knots?"
All at that old cry came flocking,
Mocking in a style quite shocking.
"Here are knots," said HYMEN, taking
Some loose nooses of Law's making.
"Pooh!" the nymphs cried. "Who can trust 'em?
We have changed your queer old custom.
Who'll buy your love-knots?
Who'll buy your love-knots?
Women they bind not, nor tie men.
You're a helpless gaoler, HYMEN!
"When the bargain is completed,
We have but to cry, 'We're cheated!'
And you'll find you're sold most sadly.
Love-knots? Fools'-knots! They tie badly.
Who'll buy your love-knots?
Who'll buy your love-knots?
Burdens you would lay our backs on—
Our reply is—TOLSTOI! JACKSON!"
HYMEN dropped his torch; its splutter
Was extinguished in the gutter.
"At my torch and crown of roses
These young minxes cock their noses.
Who'll buy my love-knots?
Who'll buy my love-knots?"
What's the use? 'Twixt Law and Passion,
HYMEN's plainly out of fashion!
LOVE, who saw the whole proceeding,
Would have laughed but for good breeding.
"Best join me," he cried, "Old Chappie!
IBSEN read, be free, and happy!
Who'll buy your love-knots?
Who'll buy your love-knots?
Have a spree—all shackles scorning,
Come! We won't go home till morning!'"