(On the Withdrawal of "The Mountebanks.")
Dear AIDA, good-bye; since it must be, it must;
Yet your slaves view your absence from Town with disgust.
For myself, I'd as soon live at Shipston-on-Stour
As endure life in London without our JENOURE.
Sprightly Mountebank AIDA, sweet Mistress of Arts,
You smiled as you danced yourself into our hearts.
And now from the Strand to the Vale of far Maida
There's only one chorus—"Come back to us, AIDA!"
Les absents, you know the old maxim, ont tort,