Pamela in Town

Then all the beaux vowed 'twas their duty
To win and wear this country Beauty.

And first Frank Lovelace tried his wit,
With whispers bold and eyes still bolder;
The warmer grew his saucy flame,

Cold grew the charming fair and colder.
'Twas "icy bosom "-"cruel beauty"-
"To love, sweet Mistress, 'tis a duty."

Then Jack Carew his arts essayed,

With honeyed sighs and feigned weeping.
Good lack! his billets bound the curls

That pretty Pam she wore a-sleeping.
Next day these curls had richer beauty,
So well Jack's fervor did its duty.

Then Cousin Will came up to view
The way Pamela ruled the fashion;
He watched the gallants crowd about,
And flew into a rustic passion,-
Left "Squire, his mark," on divers faces,
And pinked Carew beneath his laces.

Alack! one night at Ranelagh

The pretty Sly-boots fell a-blushing;
And all the mettled bloods looked round
To see what caused that telltale flushing.
Up stepped a grizzled Poet Fellow

To dance with Pam a saltarello.

Then Jack and Frank and Will resolved,
With hand on sword and cutting glances,
That they would lead that Graybeard forth
To livelier tunes and other dances.

But who that saw Pam's eyes a-shining
With love and joy would see her pining!

And-oons! Their wrath cooled as they looked

That Poet stared as fierce as any!

He was a mighty proper man,

With blade on hip and inches many;

775

The beaux all vowed it was their duty
To toast some newer, softer Beauty.

Sweet Pam she bridled, blushed and smiled-
The wild thing loved and could but show it!
Mayhap some day you'll see in town

Pamela and her grizzled Poct.
Forsooth he taught the rogue her duty,
And won her faith, her love, her beauty.
Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz [18

A LITTLE DUTCH GARDEN

I PASSED by a garden, a little Dutch garden,
Where useful and pretty things grew,-
Heart's-ease and tomatoes, and pinks and potatoes,
And lilies and onions and rue.

I saw in that garden, that little Dutch garden,
A chubby Dutch man with a spade,

And a rosy Dutch frau with a shoe like a scow,
And a flaxen-haired little Dutch maid.

There grew in that garden, that little Dutch garden,

Blue flag flowers lovely and tall,

And early blush roses, and little pink posies,

But Gretchen was fairer than all.

My heart's in that garden, that little Dutch garden,—

It tumbled right in as I passed,

'Mid wildering mazes of spinach and daisies,

And Gretchen is holding it fast.

Harriet Whitney Durbin [18

THE PRIME OF LIFE

JUST as I thought I was growing old,
Ready to sit in my easy chair,

To watch the world with a heart grown cold,
And smile at a folly I would not share,

Thoughts on the Commandments 777

Rose came by with a smile for me,

And I am thinking that forty year Isn't the age that it seems to be,

When two pretty brown eyes are near.

Bless me! of life it is just the prime,
A fact that I hope she will understand;
And forty year is a perfect rhyme

To dark brown eyes and a pretty hand.

These gray hairs are by chance, you see-
Boys are sometimes gray, I am told:

Rose came by with a smile for me,

Just as I thought I was getting old.

Walter Learned [1847

THOUGHTS ON THE COMMANDMENTS

"LOVE your neighbor as yourself,"-
So the parson preaches:
That's one half the Decalogue,—

So the prayer-book teaches.

Half my duty I can do

With but little labor,

For with all my heart and soul
I do love my neighbor.

Mighty little credit, that,

To my self-denial,

Not to love her, though, might be

Something of a trial.

Why, the rosy light, that peeps
Through the glass above her,
Lingers round her lips,-you see
E'en the sunbeams love her.

So to make my merit more,
I'll go beyond the letter:-
Love my neighbor as myself?
Yes, and ten times better.

For she's sweeter than the breath
Of the Spring, that passes
Through the fragrant, budding woods,
O'er the meadow-grasses.

And I've preached the word I know,

For it was my duty

To convert the stubborn heart

Of the little beauty.

Once again success has crowned
Missionary labor,

For her sweet eyes own that she

Also loves her neighbor.

George Augustus Baker [1849

THE IRONY OF LOVE

"SIGH NO MORE, LADIES”

From" Much Ado About Nothing"

SIGH no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea, and one on shore;
To one thing constant never.
Then sigh not so,

But let them go,

And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into Hey nonny, nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no moe
Of dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men was ever so,
Since summer first was leavy.

Then sigh not so,

But let them go,

And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe

Into Hey nonny, nonny.

William Shakespeare [1564-1616]

A RENUNCIATION

If women could be fair, and yet not fond,
Or that their love were firm, not fickle still,
I would not marvel that they make men bond
By service long to purchase their good will;
But when I see how frail those creatures are,
I muse that men forget themselves so far.