'Mid roses and larks in our shallop we glide By Inglesham poplars, on Teddington's tide, Where the water of Thame under Sinodun slide, And at Marlow, By Cliveden's green caverns, and Abingdon's walls, Where wirgles the Windrush, where Eynsham weir falls, By Sonning, or Sandford (whose lasher recalls _Mr. Barlow_). _Con tenerezza_. Oh, larks, and ro(w)ses On the shining river; Silver water-lilies, love; Love will last for ever! But the blooms turn'd to apples for urchins to munch, And the roses were sold at a penny a bunch, And the larks were served up for an Alderman's lunch, Dead and cold, love; And the lustre has faded from tresses and cheek, And the eyes do not sparkle, the eyes that I seek, And the temper is strong and the logic is weak Of my old love. _Snuffiamente_. No larks and roses In a winter gloaming; Ruby-red love's nose is; Chilblain time a-coming'. * * * * * +The Watchword of the Sugar-Bounty Conference.+--"England expects that every man (and woman) will pay an import duty." * * * +Latest French Cookery.+--Spilling the +Grévy+. [Illustration: HOW WE ADVERTISE NOW.] * * * * * [Illustration: "SABLES." _Pastor_. "+How I do regret, my dear Madam, to see you wearing these sad Habiliments of Woe!+" _Widow_. "+'M ye-es. Black never did suit me!+"] * * * * * THE PALACE OF (ADVERTISING) ART. (_A Long Way After the Laureate_.) I found myself a huckster's pleasure-place, Wherein 'twas horrible to dwell. I said, "O Soul, _the_ object of our race Is ever one--to sell." A huge-walled wilderness of ways it was, With hoardings of exceeding height, Which no one without pangs of fear, could pass, And spasms of affright. Its purpose, though, was plain; 'twas simply pelf; Whether a woman wild of glare, Or a colossal man shaving himself, All, all meant money there. "And while the world rolls round and round," I said, "Advertisement is the one thing Which need concern the wise and worldly head Of huckster, histrio, king." To which my soul made answer readily,-- "In patience I must fain abide In these vast vistas of vulgarity. Stretching on every side." * * * * * Full of long-reaching bulks of board it was, Where, glaring forth from ghostly gloom, Were gibbering monkeys grinning in a glass, In a dame's dressing-room. And some were hung with daubs of green and blue, As gaudy as a cheap Cremorne, Where actors postured in the public view, Some frantic, some forlorn. One seemed all glare and gore--a stabbing hand, A woman flopping with a groan; An ill-drawn idiot trying to look grand, Big-nosed, and high in bone.