There's a side that is bright, it will then turn us t'other,—
One turn, if a good one, deserves such another.
These downs are delightful, these ups are not hilly,—
Let us turn one more turn ere we quit Piccadilly.
THE PILGRIMS OF PALL MALL.
My little friend, so small and neat,
Whom years ago I used to meet
In Pall Mall daily;
How cheerily you tripped away
To work, it might have been to play,
You tripped so gaily.
And Time trips too. This moral means
You then were midway in the teens
That I was crowning;
We never spoke, but when I smiled
At morn or eve, I know, dear Child,
You were not frowning.
Each morning when we met, I think
Some sentiment did us two link—
Nor joy, nor sorrow;
And then at eve, experience-taught,
Our hearts returned upon the thought,—
We meet to-morrow!
And you were poor; and how?—and why?
How kind to come! it was for my
Especial grace meant!
Had you a chamber near the stars,
A bird,—some treasured plants in jars,
About your casement?
I often wander up and down,
When morning bathes the silent town
In golden glory:
Perchance, unwittingly, I've heard
Your thrilling-toned canary-bird
From some third story.
I've seen great changes since we met;—
A patient little seamstress yet,
With small means striving,
Have you a Lilliputian spouse?
And do you dwell in some doll's house?
—Is baby thriving?
Can bloom like thine—my heart grows chill—
Have sought that bourne unwelcome still
To bosom smarting?
The most forlorn—what worms we are!—
Would wish to finish this cigar
Before departing.