Forth from that moment went Frieder Far countries and kingdoms to roam, Of all earth"s musicians the leader, King"s castles and courts for a home, But, alas, for his comb!
Gold he had, but a comb again, never!
And his hair in a wild disarray Henceforth grew at random.--And ever Musicians to this very day Wear theirs the same way!
"ONWARD."
_A TALE OF THE S. E. RAILWAY_.
ANONYMOUS.
No doubt you"ve "eard the tale, sir. Thanks,--"arf o" stout and mild.
Of the man who did his dooty, though it might have killed his child.
He was only a railway porter, yet he earned undy"n" fame.
Well!--Mine"s a similar story, though the end ain"t quite the same.
I were pointsman on the South Eastern, with an only child--a girl As got switched to a houtside porter, though fit to "ave married a pearl.
With a back as straight as a tunnel, and lovely carrotty "air, She used to bring me my dinner, sir, and couldn"t she take her share!--
One day she strayed on the metals, and fell asleep on the track; I didn"t "appen to miss her, sir, or I should ha" called her back.
She"d gone quite out of earshot, and I daresen"t leave my post, For the lightnin" express was comin", but four hours late at the most!
"Ave you ever seen the "lightnin"" thunder through New Cross?
Fourteen miles an hour, sir, with stoppages, of course.
And just in the track of the monster was where my darling slept.
I could hear the rattle already, as nearer the monster crept!
I might turn the train on the sidin", but I glanced at the loop line and saw That right on the outer metals was lyin" a bundle of straw; And right in the track of the "lightnin"" was where my darlin" laid, But the loop line "ud smash up the engine, and there"d be no dividend paid
I thought of the awful disaster, of the blood and the coroner"s "quest; Of the verdict, "No blame to the pointsman, he did it all for the best!"
And I thought of the compensation the Co. would "ave to pay If I turned the train on the sidin" where the "eap of stubble lay.
So I switched her off on the main, sir, and she thundered by like a snail, And I didn"t recover my senses till I"d drunk "arf a gallon o" ale.
For though only a common pointsman, I"ve a father"s feelings, too, So I sank down in a faint, sir, as my Polly was "id from view.
And now comes the strangest part, sir, my Polly was roused by the sound.
You think she escaped the engine by lyin" flat on the ground?
No! always a good "un to run, sir, by jove she must "ave flown, For she raced the "lightnin" express," sir, till the engine was puffed and blown!!!
When next you see the boss, sir, tell him o" what I did, How I n.o.bly done my dooty, though it might a killed my kid; And you may, if you like, spare a trifle for the agony I endured, When I thought that my Polly was killed, sir, and I "adn"t got her insured!
THE DECLARATION.
BY NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS.
"Twas late, and the gay company was gone, And light lay soft on the deserted room From alabaster vases, and a scent Of orange leaves, and sweet verbena came Through the unshutter"d window on the air.
And the rich pictures with their dark old tints Hung like a twilight landscape, and all things Seem"d hush"d into a slumber. Isabel, The dark-eyed spiritual Isabel Was leaning on her harp, and I had stay"d To whisper what I could not when the crowd Hung on her look like worshippers. I knelt, And with the fervour of a lip unused To the cool breath of reason, told my love.
There was no answer, and I took the hand That rested on the strings, and press"d a kiss Upon it unforbidden--and again Besought her, that this silent evidence That I was not indifferent to her heart, Might have the seal of one sweet syllable.
I kiss"d the small white fingers as I spoke.
And she withdrew them gently, and upraised Her forehead from its resting-place, and look"d Earnestly on me--_She had been asleep!_
LOVE AND AGE.
BY THOMAS LOVE PEAc.o.c.k.
I played with you "mid cowslips blowing, When I was six and you were four; When garlands weaving, flower-b.a.l.l.s throwing, Were pleasures soon to please no more.
Through groves and meads, o"er gra.s.s and heather, With little playmates, to and fro, We wandered hand in hand together; But that was sixty years ago.
You grew a lovely roseate maiden.
And still our early love was strong; Still with no care our days were laden, They glided joyously along: And I did love you very dearly, How dearly words want power to show; I thought your heart was touched as nearly; But that was fifty years ago.
Then other lovers came around you, Your beauty grew from year to year, And many a splendid circle found you The centre of its glittering sphere.
I saw you then, first vows forsaking, On rank and wealth your hand bestow;"
Oh, then I thought my heart was breaking,-- But that was forty years ago.
And I lived on, to wed another: No cause she gave me to repine; And when I heard you were a mother, I did not wish the children mine.
My own young flock, in fair progression, Made up a pleasant Christmas row: My joy in them was past expression,-- But that was thirty years ago.
You grew a matron plump and comely, You dwelt in fashion"s brightest blaze; My earthly lot was far more homely; But I too had my festal days.
No merrier eyes have ever glistened Around the hearth-stone"s wintry glow, Than when my youngest child was christened,-- But that was twenty years ago.
Time pa.s.sed. My eldest girl was married, And I am now a grandsire gray!
One pet of four years old I"ve carried Among the wild-flowered meads to play.
In our old fields of childish pleasure, Where now, as then, the cowslips blow, She fills her basket"s ample measure,-- And that is not ten years ago.
But though first love"s impa.s.sioned blindness Has pa.s.sed away in colder light, I still have thought of you with kindness, And shall do, till our last good-night The ever-rolling silent hours Will bring a time we shall not know, When our young days of gathering flowers Will be a hundred years ago.
HALF AN HOUR BEFORE SUPPER.
BY BRET HARTE.
"So she"s here, your unknown Dulcinea--the lady you met on the train, And you really believe she would know you if you were to meet her again?"
"Of course," he replied, "she would know me; there was never womankind yet Forgot the effect she inspired. She excuses, but does not forget."