Where are those legs with which you run
When first you went to shoulder the gun?
Indeed, your dancing days are done—
O, Johnnie, I hardly knew you.
R. Y. Tyrrell.
From A Book of Jousts. London, Field and Tuer.
In The World Christmas Number, 1879, there was an exquisite satire on Mr. Burne Jones’s art entitled “The God and the Damosel”; it was accompanied by the following verses, and a prose criticism (too long to quote in full) written in imitation of the intensely Æsthetic jargon familiar to the frequenters of the Grosvenor Gallery. To fully appreciate the poem and the criticism, the burlesque picture by Mr. E. B. T. Burnt Bones should be seen, once seen it could never be forgotten.
The God and the Damosel.
By A. C. Sinburn.