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Bentley's Miscellany, Volume II
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The blind old father knows his step, and chants
The lilt with double force: Miss Higgins next
Sets down Miss Reeves; Ned Joyce retires, half vext,
For Knock-knee'd Phelim, who, despite his pins,
Applause from all for heel-and-toeing wins!
Thus did they trip it for a goodly hour;
When, oh! what charm there is in music's pow'r!
Old Joyce the piper seizes a short stay
To change his pipes: – and, what's the merry lay
They now lilt up? – 'The Priest in his Boots,' and lo!
(Whether 'twas all concerted I don't know,)
Fat Widow Higgins, 'midst the general shout,
By Father Martin is led waddling out!
Oh! how they tramp'd and stamp'd, and flounc'd and bounc'd!
A mercy 'twas they trod on the ground-floor,
For through a loft they surely would have pounc'd —
As 'twas, the earth was trembling to its core:
Sure such flochoolah dancers ne'er were seen before!
Long Curly next our hero's post relieves,
And Kitty Duff gives place to Nelly Reeves:
Curly, the piper's son, Ned Joyce, supplants;
The blind old father knows his step, and chants
The lilt with double force: Miss Higgins next
Sets down Miss Reeves; Ned Joyce retires, half vext,
For Knock-knee'd Phelim, who, despite his pins,
Applause from all for heel-and-toeing wins!
Thus did they trip it for a goodly hour;
When, oh! what charm there is in music's pow'r!
Old Joyce the piper seizes a short stay
To change his pipes: – and, what's the merry lay
They now lilt up? – 'The Priest in his Boots,' and lo!
(Whether 'twas all concerted I don't know,)
Fat Widow Higgins, 'midst the general shout,
By Father Martin is led waddling out!
Oh! how they tramp'd and stamp'd, and flounc'd and bounc'd!
A mercy 'twas they trod on the ground-floor,
For through a loft they surely would have pounc'd —
As 'twas, the earth was trembling to its core:
Sure such flochoolah dancers ne'er were seen before!
A FEW ENQUIRIES
Mortal, in thy brief career,
Ranger of this nether sphere,
Tell me truly, have thine eyes
View'd earth's hidden mysteries?
Hast thou seen the dark blue sea,
Its bosom heaving tranquilly
To the wooing breath of night?
Hast thou watch'd the quiv'ring light,
Where the silver moonbeams dance,
Scattered o'er its broad expanse?
Likening the giant deep
To a sobbing child asleep,
O'er whose cheeks and visage fair
Smiles that wait on infant care
Chase the tear-drops trickling there?
Hast thou ever watch'd that sea
Rising in its majesty,
When its mighty depths are rent
By the rushing element,
And its waves exultingly
Revel in their liberty?
Hast thou ever, pale with doubt,
View'd the fatal waterspout,
Or the whirlpool's treach'rous wave
Luring seamen to their grave?
Hast thou climb'd o'er Alpine snows,
When the day is at its close,
When the storm its fury spends,
And the avalanche descends,
Hurling a terrific death
On the mountaineer beneath?
Hast thou on Arabia's soil,
Faint with heat, and worn with toil,
Bow'd beneath the simoom's blast,
Till its deadly breath was past?
Hast thou e'er pursued thy way
'Neath the red sun's burning ray?
And, when hope was almost gone,
Has the mirage lured thee on
With its waves that ever flee,
And but mock thy misery?
Hast thou watch'd the torrent's force
Dashing onward in its course,
Till, in one tremendous leap,
Its waters sink into the deep?
Hast thou seen the lava glide
Down the steep volcano's side?
Hast thou seen the misty light
Of the comet's erring flight?
Or the rainbow's azure span,
Or the huge leviathan,
Or the meteor in the air,
Or the lion in his lair,
Or the thousand things that be
In the blue depths of the sea?
The lilt with double force: Miss Higgins next
Sets down Miss Reeves; Ned Joyce retires, half vext,
For Knock-knee'd Phelim, who, despite his pins,
Applause from all for heel-and-toeing wins!
Thus did they trip it for a goodly hour;
When, oh! what charm there is in music's pow'r!
Old Joyce the piper seizes a short stay
To change his pipes: – and, what's the merry lay
They now lilt up? – 'The Priest in his Boots,' and lo!
(Whether 'twas all concerted I don't know,)
Fat Widow Higgins, 'midst the general shout,
By Father Martin is led waddling out!
Oh! how they tramp'd and stamp'd, and flounc'd and bounc'd!
A mercy 'twas they trod on the ground-floor,
For through a loft they surely would have pounc'd —
As 'twas, the earth was trembling to its core:
Sure such flochoolah dancers ne'er were seen before!
Long Curly next our hero's post relieves,
And Kitty Duff gives place to Nelly Reeves:
Curly, the piper's son, Ned Joyce, supplants;
The blind old father knows his step, and chants
The lilt with double force: Miss Higgins next
Sets down Miss Reeves; Ned Joyce retires, half vext,
For Knock-knee'd Phelim, who, despite his pins,
Applause from all for heel-and-toeing wins!
Thus did they trip it for a goodly hour;
When, oh! what charm there is in music's pow'r!
Old Joyce the piper seizes a short stay
To change his pipes: – and, what's the merry lay
They now lilt up? – 'The Priest in his Boots,' and lo!
(Whether 'twas all concerted I don't know,)
Fat Widow Higgins, 'midst the general shout,
By Father Martin is led waddling out!
Oh! how they tramp'd and stamp'd, and flounc'd and bounc'd!
A mercy 'twas they trod on the ground-floor,
For through a loft they surely would have pounc'd —
As 'twas, the earth was trembling to its core:
Sure such flochoolah dancers ne'er were seen before!
A FEW ENQUIRIES
Mortal, in thy brief career,
Ranger of this nether sphere,
Tell me truly, have thine eyes
View'd earth's hidden mysteries?
Hast thou seen the dark blue sea,
Its bosom heaving tranquilly
To the wooing breath of night?
Hast thou watch'd the quiv'ring light,
Where the silver moonbeams dance,
Scattered o'er its broad expanse?
Likening the giant deep
To a sobbing child asleep,
O'er whose cheeks and visage fair
Smiles that wait on infant care
Chase the tear-drops trickling there?
Hast thou ever watch'd that sea
Rising in its majesty,
When its mighty depths are rent
By the rushing element,
And its waves exultingly
Revel in their liberty?
Hast thou ever, pale with doubt,
View'd the fatal waterspout,
Or the whirlpool's treach'rous wave
Luring seamen to their grave?
Hast thou climb'd o'er Alpine snows,
When the day is at its close,
When the storm its fury spends,
And the avalanche descends,
Hurling a terrific death
On the mountaineer beneath?
Hast thou on Arabia's soil,
Faint with heat, and worn with toil,
Bow'd beneath the simoom's blast,
Till its deadly breath was past?
Hast thou e'er pursued thy way
'Neath the red sun's burning ray?
And, when hope was almost gone,
Has the mirage lured thee on
With its waves that ever flee,
And but mock thy misery?
Hast thou watch'd the torrent's force
Dashing onward in its course,
Till, in one tremendous leap,
Its waters sink into the deep?
Hast thou seen the lava glide
Down the steep volcano's side?
Hast thou seen the misty light
Of the comet's erring flight?
Or the rainbow's azure span,
Or the huge leviathan,
Or the meteor in the air,
Or the lion in his lair,
Or the thousand things that be
In the blue depths of the sea?
Другие электронные книги автора Various
Последний отзыв
Да, первый рассказ из сборника, что я успела прочитать, что надо! И написано хорошо, и содержание необычное, но жизненное. Очень понравилось, хотя там...
Далее