Not, but be my bride! Do not simply shove me But a hundred yearly CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY OUR BALL Comment! c'est lui? que je le regarde encore! C'est que vraiment il est bien changé; n'est-ce pas, mon papa? Les Premiers Amours. YOU'LL Come to our Ball; since we parted, I've thought of you more than I'll say; Indeed, I was half broken-hearted For a week, when they took you away. Which you used to sing to me then. But Clarence, you'll come to our Ball! It's only a year, since, at College, You put on your cap and your gown; OUR BALL Clarence, you're grown out of knowl edge, changed from the spur to the crown: ice that was best when it faltered aller and firmer in tone, e smile that should never have altered r Clarence it is not your own: ar coat don't become you at all; often been out upon Haldon OUR BALL And I'll wear what you brought me from Florence, Perhaps, if you'll come to our Ball. You'll find us all changed since you vanished; We've set up a National School; And waltzing is utterly banished, And Ellen has married a fool; The Major is going to travel, Miss Hyacinth threatens a rout, The walk is laid down with fresh gravel, Papa is laid up with the gout; And Jane has gone on with her easels, And Anne has gone off with Sir Paul; And Fanny is sick with the measles, And I'll tell you the rest at the Ball. You'll meet all your Beauties; the Lily, And the Fairy of Willowbrook Farm, And Lucy, who made me so silly At Dawlish, by taking your arm; OUR BALL s Manners, who always abused you I her sister, who often amused you d something which surely would answer, An heiress quite fresh from Bengal; though you were seldom a dancer, You'll dance, just for once, at our Ball. t out on the World! from the flowers It shuts out the sunshine of truth: blights the green leaves in the bowers, It makes an old age of our youth; That ever you danced at our Ball! |