Absurd! Then dames in castles dwelt,
Nor dared to show their noses:
Then passion that could not be spelt,
Was hinted at in posies.
Such shifts make modern Cupid laugh:
For sweethearts, in love's tremor,
Now tell their vows by telegraph—
And go off in the steamer!
The earth is still our Mother Earth—
Young shepherds still fling capers
In flowery groves that ring with mirth—
Where old ones read the papers.
Romance, as tender and as true,
Our Isle has never quitted:
So lads and lasses when they woo
Are hardly to be pitied!
Oh, yes! young love is lovely yet—
With faith and honour plighted:
I love to see a pair so met—
Youth—Beauty—all united.
Such dear ones may they ever wear
The roses Fortune gave them:
Ah, know we such a Blessed Pair?
I think we do! God save them!
Our lot is cast on pleasant days,
In not unpleasant places—
Young ladies now have pretty ways,
As well as pretty faces;
So never sigh for what has been,
And let us cease complaining
That we have loved when Our Dear Queen
Victoria was reigning!
GERALDINE GREEN.
I.
THE SERENADE.
Light slumber is quitting
The eyelids it pressed,
The fairies are flitting,
Who charmed thee to rest:
Where night-dews were falling
Now feeds the wild bee,
The starling is calling,
My Darling, for thee.
The wavelets are crisper
That sway the shy fern,
The leaves fondly whisper,
"We wait thy return."
Arise then, and hazy
Distrust from thee fling,
For sorrows that crazy
To-morrows may bring.