When night her sable pall doth spread Above the city's sleeping head So as it seemeth to be dead; And labour hath a short surcease, And burglars taste a halcyon peace, Save where the vigilant police, All fearless on their darkling beat, With sound of heavy-sandalled feet Wake awesome echoes in the street; When weary chapmen go their ways To halls of song or sit at gaze In front of elevating plays; Or haply drop into the club, And pausing for a friendly rub Defy the deadly nuptial snub; Or watch in fond paternal mood The slumber of their infant brood In some suburban neighbourhood:-- Then, JULIA, then, at such an hour I gather that you quit your bower And seek the purlieus of the Tower; Encased in wanton breeks and wide, A solid regiment, you ride With swains revolving at your side; By stilly thoroughfares you strike Th' astonied silence with your bike; Earth never yet hath seen the like! Not she, that fair of whom they sing, Who wrought her city's ransoming, GODIVA dared so bold a thing. High Heaven alone sees such a sight When Dian wheels her orb by night With many a starry satellite. But, JULIA, though the mode decree, By all the rites of Battersea, That you career in company, The conscious object of remark, Whenas the lusty-throated lark Disporteth o'er the People's Park; Yet certes it were more discreet, When Hesper from his vantage-seat Illuminateth Cannon Street, To ride with none but me to know Just how th' enamoured breezes blow Round your ineffable _trousseau!_ How say you, sweet? To-morrow, then, We assignate for half-past ten Upon the punctual stroke of Ben? On Cupid's chaste commission bent We twain will meet, with your consent, 10.30, by the Monument. * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. To recommend _Lyre and Lancet_ to readers of _Punch_ is to preach to the converted, and, as Sir WILLIAM HARCOURT said when he opened his election campaign in Derby, that is a work of supererogation. There is, however, this new thing to be said, that SMITH, ELDER & CO., including the work in their Novel Series, have presented it in dainty form, and have preserved Mr. PARTRIDGE'S illustrations. My Baronite has read it through again with increased admiration for the perilous audacity of the plot, the skill with which it is worked out, and the many felicities of the phrasing. It would be so easy to spoil it by a coarse or slovenly touch. In no scene of the breathless drama does Mr. ANSTEY'S hand forget its cunning.