I had been to the play
With my pearl of a Peri—
But, for all I could say,
She declared she was weary,
That “the place was so crowded and hot, and she couldn’t abide that Dundreary.”
Then I thought “’Tis for me
That she whines and she whimpers!”
And it soothed me to see
Those sensational simpers,
And I said “This is scrumptious!”—a phrase I had learned from the Devonshire shrimpers.
And I vowed “’Twill be said
I’m a fortunate fellow,
When the breakfast is spread,
When the topers are mellow,
When the foam of the bride-cake is white, and the fierce orange-blossoms are yellow!”
O that languishing yawn!
O those eloquent eyes!
I was drunk with the dawn
Of a splendid surmise—
I was stung by a look, I was slain by a tear, by a tempest of sighs.
And I whispered “’Tis time!
Is not Love at its deepest?
Shall we squander Life’s prime,
While thou waitest and weepest?
Let us settle it, License or Banns?—though undoubtedly Banns are the cheapest.”
“Ah, my Hero,” said I,
“Let me be thy Leander!”
But I lost her reply—
Something ending with “gander”—
For the omnibus rattled so loud that no mortal could quite understand her. |
