Till my head ached, my heart was faint,
And I was utterly undone,
I cannot rub away the paint,
I can't afford another one.
They have a murky yellow shade,
My collars once so white; and frail,
And at the wristbands sadly frayed
My solitary swallow-tail!
That dinner-party where we met!
We seemed to meet like friends of old,
And both to utterly forget
The bitter barrier of gold.
Oh, by your eyes, your wistful mien,
I know for wealth you do not care,
I know you wish you had not been
Related to a millionaire!
The starlit night is deepening,
Hushed are the footsteps of the folk,
My window open wide I fling,
And one enchanted pipe I smoke,
And on the misty vapour blue,
Across the Square my fancies float;
And oh, so near, so near to you,
And oh, so bitterly remote!
I talk to you of many things,
My pipe I unaware refill,
I wonder if our thoughts have wings,
I wonder, are you waking still?
And should I, if your house took fire,
Have time to hurry to your aid,
To rescue you from peril dire,
Before swooped down the Fire Brigade.
There has sprung up a pleasant breeze
After the day's dustladen air,
And it is blowing in the trees
Within the garden in the Square.
Oh, gentle wind—I may not speak,
Wind from the West, I may not tell.
Across the Square my lady seek,
And bid her dream I love her well!
Polite Police in Egypt.—The Anglo-Egyptian Police are to be converted into a civil force. Will Police Professors of Politeness be sent over from England to give lectures on civility?
Motto for any Authors writing Plays for the Garrick Theatre.—"Keep your Hare on!"