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Satires of Circumstance, Lyrics and Reveries, with Miscellaneous Pieces
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In me alone, she vowed. ’Twas to cover
The cost of her headstone when she died.
And that was a year ago last June;
I’ve not yet fixed it. But I must soon.”
“And where is the money now, my dear?”
“O, snug in my purse.. Aunt was so slow
In saving it – eighty weeks, or near.”.
“Let’s spend it,” he hints. “For she won’t know.
There’s a dance to-night at the Load of Hay.”
She passively nods. And they go that way.
IV
IN THE ROOM OF THE BRIDE-ELECT
“Would it had been the man of our wish!”
Sighs her mother. To whom with vehemence she
In the wedding-dress – the wife to be —
“Then why were you so mollyish
As not to insist on him for me!”
The mother, amazed: “Why, dearest one,
Because you pleaded for this or none!”
“But Father and you should have stood out strong!
Since then, to my cost, I have lived to find
That you were right and that I was wrong;
This man is a dolt to the one declined.
Ah! – here he comes with his button-hole rose.
Good God – I must marry him I suppose!”
V
AT A WATERING-PLACE
They sit and smoke on the esplanade,
The man and his friend, and regard the bay
Where the far chalk cliffs, to the left displayed,
Smile sallowly in the decline of day.
And saunterers pass with laugh and jest —
A handsome couple among the rest.
“That smart proud pair,” says the man to his friend,
“Are to marry next week.. How little he thinks
That dozens of days and nights on end
I have stroked her neck, unhooked the links
Of her sleeve to get at her upper arm.
Well, bliss is in ignorance: what’s the harm!”
VI
IN THE CEMETERY
“You see those mothers squabbling there?”
Remarks the man of the cemetery.
One says in tears, ‘’Tis mine lies here!’
Another, ‘Nay, mine, you Pharisee!’
Another, ‘How dare you move my flowers
And put your own on this grave of ours!’
But all their children were laid therein
At different times, like sprats in a tin.
“And then the main drain had to cross,
And we moved the lot some nights ago,
And packed them away in the general foss
With hundreds more. But their folks don’t know,
And as well cry over a new-laid drain
As anything else, to ease your pain!”
VII
OUTSIDE THE WINDOW
“My stick!” he says, and turns in the lane
To the house just left, whence a vixen voice
Comes out with the firelight through the pane,
And he sees within that the girl of his choice
Stands rating her mother with eyes aglare
For something said while he was there.
“At last I behold her soul undraped!”
Thinks the man who had loved her more than himself;
“My God – ’tis but narrowly I have escaped. —
My precious porcelain proves it delf.”
His face has reddened like one ashamed,
And he steals off, leaving his stick unclaimed.
VIII
IN THE STUDY
He enters, and mute on the edge of a chair
Sits a thin-faced lady, a stranger there,
A type of decayed gentility;
And by some small signs he well can guess
That she comes to him almost breakfastless.
“I have called – I hope I do not err —
I am looking for a purchaser
Of some score volumes of the works
The cost of her headstone when she died.
And that was a year ago last June;
I’ve not yet fixed it. But I must soon.”
“And where is the money now, my dear?”
“O, snug in my purse.. Aunt was so slow
In saving it – eighty weeks, or near.”.
“Let’s spend it,” he hints. “For she won’t know.
There’s a dance to-night at the Load of Hay.”
She passively nods. And they go that way.
IV
IN THE ROOM OF THE BRIDE-ELECT
“Would it had been the man of our wish!”
Sighs her mother. To whom with vehemence she
In the wedding-dress – the wife to be —
“Then why were you so mollyish
As not to insist on him for me!”
The mother, amazed: “Why, dearest one,
Because you pleaded for this or none!”
“But Father and you should have stood out strong!
Since then, to my cost, I have lived to find
That you were right and that I was wrong;
This man is a dolt to the one declined.
Ah! – here he comes with his button-hole rose.
Good God – I must marry him I suppose!”
V
AT A WATERING-PLACE
They sit and smoke on the esplanade,
The man and his friend, and regard the bay
Where the far chalk cliffs, to the left displayed,
Smile sallowly in the decline of day.
And saunterers pass with laugh and jest —
A handsome couple among the rest.
“That smart proud pair,” says the man to his friend,
“Are to marry next week.. How little he thinks
That dozens of days and nights on end
I have stroked her neck, unhooked the links
Of her sleeve to get at her upper arm.
Well, bliss is in ignorance: what’s the harm!”
VI
IN THE CEMETERY
“You see those mothers squabbling there?”
Remarks the man of the cemetery.
One says in tears, ‘’Tis mine lies here!’
Another, ‘Nay, mine, you Pharisee!’
Another, ‘How dare you move my flowers
And put your own on this grave of ours!’
But all their children were laid therein
At different times, like sprats in a tin.
“And then the main drain had to cross,
And we moved the lot some nights ago,
And packed them away in the general foss
With hundreds more. But their folks don’t know,
And as well cry over a new-laid drain
As anything else, to ease your pain!”
VII
OUTSIDE THE WINDOW
“My stick!” he says, and turns in the lane
To the house just left, whence a vixen voice
Comes out with the firelight through the pane,
And he sees within that the girl of his choice
Stands rating her mother with eyes aglare
For something said while he was there.
“At last I behold her soul undraped!”
Thinks the man who had loved her more than himself;
“My God – ’tis but narrowly I have escaped. —
My precious porcelain proves it delf.”
His face has reddened like one ashamed,
And he steals off, leaving his stick unclaimed.
VIII
IN THE STUDY
He enters, and mute on the edge of a chair
Sits a thin-faced lady, a stranger there,
A type of decayed gentility;
And by some small signs he well can guess
That she comes to him almost breakfastless.
“I have called – I hope I do not err —
I am looking for a purchaser
Of some score volumes of the works
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