Punch, or the London Charivari, October 21st 1893Various
General
Punch, or the London Charivari, October 21st 1893
Various
English wit and humor -- Periodicals
Sweet youth! I wonder if you'll feel much pain
To know that that sweet soul-inspiring strain
You whistle at so wonderful a rate
Is now in point of fact quite out of date.
Down in the country pr'aps you hardly know
At what a pace these street-songs come and go.
At present you're a day behind the fair,
And want (as I myself) a change of air.
You should protest you're being driven crazy
By waiting for the answer of fair DAISY;
Or else ask sadly what was she to do
Who, "silly girl," got taken on to Crewe.
Whistle _that_ charming ditty, if you must,
Until, (forgive the phrase) until you bust,
But do _not_ whistle, if you wish to rank
As in the know, "_The Man who broke the Bank_."
* * * * *
UPON JULIA'S MOTHER.
(_To depart presently._)
Julia, I deemed that I had wed
Not thine, but only thee;
A child I wept my mother sped,
Thou'st given thine to me.
She came as wandering sea-birds come
To rest upon a spar
Of ships that trail the lights of home
Where homeless billows are.
From Aix-les-Bains to Harrogate,
From Bath to Tunbridge Wells,
She's sojourned in Imperial state,
Yet here content she dwells.
Content--and yet no truce with truth
Such Roman mothers know;
Quick to detect the faults of youth,
And prompt to tell us so.
I knew not I possess'd the charms
Her wandering will to bind,
To keep me from my JULIA'S arms,
And mould the baby's mind.
When first I held thee to my breast
I little dreamt the day
Another bird would share the nest
As there content to stay.
Thy kindred, dear, I wooed not them,
Such wealth I'd fain resign;
Since I have won the brightest gem
I covet not the mine.
* * * * *
Mrs. R. says that when she thinks the drains are likely to be
offensive she invariably uses "bucolic."
* * * * *
[Illustration: A CRISIS IN CONJUGAL LIFE.
_Fond Husband._ "LOOK HERE, ETHEL, I SEE YOU DAILY GETTING THINNER AND
PALER; YOU CANNOT EAT, YOU CANNOT SLEEP, WHILE I FIND LIFE A BURDEN TO
ME. I CAN BEAR IT NO LONGER! LET US MAKE A BARGAIN. IF YOU PROMISE NOT
TO GIVE ME A CHRISTMAS PRESENT, I'LL PROMISE NOT TO GIVE _YOU_ ONE.
THERE!"]
* * * * *
FAREWELL!
(_On hearing that snow had fallen in the North._)
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account