Nay—look not thus, with brow reproving: Lies are, my dear, the soul of loving! If half we tell the girls were true, If half we swear to think and do, Were aught but lying's bright illusion, The world would be in strange confusion! If ladies' eyes were, every one, As lovers swear, a radiant sun, Astronomy should leave the skies, To learn her lore in ladies' eyes! Oh no!—believe me, lovely girl, When nature turns your teeth to pearl, Your neck to snow, your eyes to fire, Your yellow locks to golden wire, Then, only then, can heaven decree, That you should live for only me, Or I for you, as night and morn, We've swearing kiss'd, and kissing sworn. And now, my gentle hints to clear, For once, I'll tell you truth, my dear! Whenever you may chance to meet A loving youth, whose love is sweet, Long as you're false and he believes you, Long as you trust and he deceives you, So long the blissful bond endures; And while he lies, his heart is yours: But, oh! you've wholly lost the youth The instant that he tells you truth! Thomas Moore.
STRICTLY GERM-PROOF
| The Antiseptic Baby and the Prophylactic Pup Were playing in the garden when the Bunny gamboled up; They looked upon the Creature with a loathing undisguised;— It wasn't Disinfected and it wasn't Sterilized. They said it was a Microbe and a Hotbed of Disease; They steamed it in a vapor of a thousand-odd degrees; They froze it in a freezer that was cold as Banished Hope And washed it in permanganate with carbolated soap. In sulphureted hydrogen they steeped its wiggly ears; They trimmed its frisky whiskers with a pair of hard-boiled shears; They donned their rubber mittens and they took it by the hand And 'lected it a member of the Fumigated Band. There's not a Micrococcus in the garden where they play; They bathe in pure iodoform a dozen times a day; And each imbibes his rations from a Hygienic Cup— The Bunny and the Baby and the Prophylactic Pup. Arthur Guiterman. |
THE LAY OF THE LOVER'S FRIEND
| Air—"The days we went a-gipsying." I would all womankind were dead, Or banished o'er the sea; For they have been a bitter plague These last six weeks to me: It is not that I'm touched myself, For that I do not fear; No female face hath shown me grace For many a bygone year. But 'tis the most infernal bore, Of all the bores I know, To have a friend who's lost his heart A short time ago. Whene'er we steam it to Blackwall, Or down to Greenwich run, To quaff the pleasant cider cup, And feed on fish and fun; Or climb the slopes of Richmond Hill, To catch a breath of air: Then, for my sins, he straight begins To rave about his fair. Oh, 'tis the most tremendous bore, Of all the bores I know, To have a friend who's lost his heart A short time ago. In vain you pour into his ear Your own confiding grief; In vain you claim his sympathy, In vain you ask relief; In vain you try to rouse him by Joke, repartee, or quiz; His sole reply's a burning sigh, And "What a mind it is!" O Lord! it is the greatest bore, Of all the bores I know, To have a friend who's lost his heart A short time ago. I've heard her thoroughly described A hundred times, I'm sure; And all the while I've tried to smile, And patiently endure; He waxes strong upon his pangs, And potters o'er his grog; And still I say, in a playful way— "Why you're a lucky dog!" But oh! it is the heaviest bore, Of all the bores I know, To have a friend who's lost his heart A short time ago. I really wish he'd do like me When I was young and strong; I formed a passion every week, But never kept it long. But he has not the sportive mood That always rescued me, And so I would all women could Be banished o'er the sea. For 'tis the most egregious bore, Of all the bores I know, To have a friend who's lost his heart A short time ago. William E. Aytoun. |
MAN'S PLACE IN NATURE
DEDICATED TO DARWIN AND HUXLEY
| They told him gently he was made Of nicely tempered mud, That man no lengthened part had played Anterior to the Flood. 'Twas all in vain; he heeded not, Referring plant and worm, Fish, reptile, ape, and Hottentot, To one primordial germ. They asked him whether he could bear To think his kind allied To all those brutal forms which were In structure Pithecoid; Whether he thought the apes and us Homologous in form; He said, "Homo and Pithecus Came from one common germ." They called him "atheistical," "Sceptic," and "infidel." They swore his doctrines without fail Would plunge him into hell. But he with proofs in no way lame, Made this deduction firm, That all organic beings came From one primordial germ. That as for the Noachian flood, 'Twas long ago disproved, That as for man being made of mud, All by whom truth is loved Accept as fact what, malgré strife, Research tends to confirm— That man, and everything with life, Came from one common germ. Unknown. |
THE NEW VERSION
| A soldier of the Russians Lay japanned at Tschrtzvkjskivitch, There was lack of woman's nursing And other comforts which Might add to his last moments And smooth the final way;— But a comrade stood beside him To hear what he might say. The japanned Russian faltered As he took that comrade's hand, And he said: "I never more shall see My own, my native land; Take a message and a token To some distant friends of mine, For I was born at Smnlxzrskgqrxzski, Fair Smnlxzrskgqrxzski on the Irkztrvzkimnov." W. J. Lampton. |
AMAZING FACTS ABOUT FOOD
The Food Scientist tells us: "A deficiency of iron, phosphorus, potassium, calcium and the other mineral salts, colloids and vitamines of vegetable origin leads to numerous forms of physical disorder."
| I yearn to bite on a Colloid With phosphorus, iron and Beans; I want to be filled with Calcium, grilled, And Veg'table Vitamines! I yearn to bite on a Colloid (Though I don't know what it means) To line my inside with Potassium, fried, And Veg'table Vitamines. I would sate my soul with spinach And dandelion greens. No eggs, nor ham, nor hard-boiled clam, But Veg'table Vitamines. Hi, Waiter! Coddle the Colloids With phosphorus, iron and Beans; Though Mineral Salts may have some faults, Bring on the Vitamines. Unknown. |
TRANSCENDENTALISM
| It is told, in Buddhi-theosophic schools, There are rules. By observing which, when mundane labor irks One can simulate quiescence By a timely evanescence From his Active Mortal Essence, (Or his Works.) The particular procedure leaves research In the lurch, But, apparently, this matter-moulded form Is a kind of outer plaster, Which a well-instructed Master Can remove without disaster When he's warm. And to such as mourn an Indian Solar Clime At its prime 'Twere a thesis most immeasurably fit, So expansively elastic, And so plausibly fantastic, That one gets enthusiastic For a bit. Unknown. |
A "CAUDAL" LECTURE