Augustus M. Moore.
ON NEWPORT BEACH.
(Rondeau.)
On Newport beach there ran right merrily,
In dainty navy blue clothed to the knee,
Thence to the foot in white au naturel,
A little maid. Fair was she, truth to tell,
As Oceanus' child Callirrhoë.
In the soft sand lay one small shell, its wee
Keen scallops tinct with faint hues, such as be
In girlish cheeks. In some old storm it fell
On Newport Beach.
There was a bather of the species he,
Who saw the little maid go toward the sea;
Rushing to help her through the billowy swell,
He set his sole upon the little shell,
And heaped profanely phraséd obloquy
On Newport Beach.
H. C. Bunner.
CULTURE IN THE SLUMS.
(Inscribed to an Intense Poet.)
I. RONDEAU.
"O crikey, Bill!" she ses to me, she ses.
"Look sharp," ses she, "with them there sossiges.
Yea! sharp with them there bags of mysteree!
For lo!" she ses, "for lo! old pal," ses she,
"I'm blooming peckish, neither more nor less."